Blood Ties
by Ebony's Grim
Summary: There are some bonds you just can't break, no matter how much you ignore them. Especially family bonds. Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy. Father/Daughter Voldemort/Hermione. UPDATED.
1. Chapter 1

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

Rewriting Blood Ties will prove to be a challenge. No reviews required, since they don't let you review the same chapter twice, but I would appreciate it if you would drop a PM and let me know whether you prefer this or the original version. I'm seeking to improve it, and I think it was a jumbled mess I'd rather not read again, to be honest.

Also, a reminder on the Poll. If you haven't already voted, please do so. Your opinion matters to me. Thank you.

* * *

Imagine your entire world being ripped from you. Everything you've ever known, ever loved, gone. In one swift stroke, my life was torn asunder. I could hardly tell between the truth and lies. It hardly mattered.

My life changed drastically during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Everything changed. My friendship with Ron and Harry was taken from me because of one man. One I was, by some unfortunate accident, born to.

We, Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville and I, traveled by Thestrals to the Ministry of Magic. We were going in search of Sirius, whom of which Harry was convinced was kidnapped. I didn't believe it, not really, but I knew how important it was to Harry. Voldemort had taken his parents Sirius was all Harry had left. If I'd been in the same situation, I would have wanted to rescue them to.

So I followed Harry, as I had always done, into the thick of danger. We fought Death Eaters valiantly, or at least we tried to, and were rescued by the Order- Sirius included. It turned out all Voldemort wanted was a prophecy, and he lured Harry into picking it up. In exchange, he would have given him Sirius. But he'd never had him in the first place.

I cast a _Silencio _at Dolohov, thinking it would slow him down and prevent him from casting spells, while Harry and Sirius fought off Bellatrix. I don't know what happened to the others, I couldn't think about it. In front of me was one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and the truth was, I'd never been a great duelist. Not up until a certain point, anyway. Dolohov cast a shimmering purple spell my way and it hit me directly in the chest. I remember the ache of feeling my skin tear open and the burning sensation of the air on my wound. It still hurts, even today. I fell back and my head hit the floor with a solid thunk.

Naturally, I passed out. But it seemed like only a moment later when I woke up and I found Voldemort's red eyes staring into mine. It was a curious thing, really. It was like he was studying me, as if I was some warped experiment, revolting but so very curious. Fear racked through my body. I couldn't move, his stare was pinning me to the ground. There he was, the very man who had destroyed the lives of so many. The most feared man in the world. He was as horrible as Harry had described.

Voldemort was very pale. Thin and bony, he looked sickly and repulsive. His eyes were a deep ruby red, so similar to blood it was sickening. His nose was flattened, much like the snakes he so loved. His lips were thin, almost nonexistent. He was revolting. He was a monster, a murderer.

He could have killed me in that moment, but he didn't. Why not? Why didn't he kill me? He could have, and should have wanted to, considering my so called low birth and his own warped opinions. I was defenseless, and even if I had my wand, what good would it have done me? I couldn't compare to Voldemort, I couldn't fight him and win. He should have killed me. I was waiting to hear those words, those two simple, dangerous words that would end my life forever.

Instead he said, "Get up, girl."

I didn't understand it. I couldn't hope to. My mind was racing at his command, it was terribly confusing to meet the man who wanted you dead and instead of killing you, he tells you to stand. Could you imagine it? I don't think so.

I did as he said. What else could I have done? To run away I would have to stand anyway, so what did it matter?

"If you so foolishly believe you can stand against my Death Eaters with _Silencio_," he snarled the word. "You are sorely mistaken."

He was right, of course. We were students, we only knew how to fight students. Death Eaters were firing their spells with the intent to kill. And we would have been, had the Order not decided to show up. I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't form the words. I heard Harry scream out Sirius' name, and I turned around. Lupin was holding him against him, holding him back. What happened? What had become of Sirius? I couldn't see him- no. No no. Sirius was all that Harry had left- he couldn't have died, could he?

"She killed him!" Harry roared. "She killed Sirius! I'll kill her!"Bellatrix laughed, quite giddily, like a child on Christmas morning. She was pleased to have killed Sirius, to take something so precious to Harry. Not to mention cutting a line that had disgraced her family name since he entered Hogwarts.

I gave a wide eye glance back at Voldemort and watched as he fell into the shadows, his body melting into dark clouds. I turned back and followed Harry, dodging spells, fighting back as I could. When I found him, he was fighting off Bellatrix. No, not fighting off. He was cursing her, with an Unforgivable. She was screaming in pain, but it almost seemed empty. As if it didn't hurt as much as it should.

"Harry!" I cried out for him. This wasn't him, this wasn't my friend. My best friend didn't use an Unforgivable on someone. But it was Harry, only very angry. More than I've ever seen him. He was shaking with grief and anger, and more importantly, the desire to see Bellatrix pay for what she had done.

Harry lowered his wand and glanced at me but for a moment. Something flickered in his eyes. Something akin to regret. Bellatrix stood and laughed. She was a crazed madwoman with a lust and love for torturing and causing physical harm. She took enjoyment out of it. The word seems inadequate when describing her, but Bellatrix is insane.

"You've never used an Unforgivable before, have you, boy?" She asked. "You've got to mean them Potter. You need to really want to cause pain- to enjoy it. Righteous anger won't hurt me for long." As she explained, she drew out her wand. "I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson." Harry dodged away, but it was pointless. Bellatrix wasn't aiming for him- she was aiming for me.

"Crucio," she snarled. I gasped out when the curse hit me. It's hard to describe what it feels like. The pain is unimaginable, but I dared not give her the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I bit down on my tongue to prevent my cries from escaping. I clutched my wand, my knuckles turned white.

It was... I can't describe it. It was like... It was like a thousand knives, piercing my skin, dragging down in a jagged cut. It was as if someone was clawing my brain from the inside, as if they were tearing my eyes from the back of my skull. In the back of my mind, I wondered how long I could go on. It hurt so damn much, words are insufficient.

"Stop it!" I heard Harry scream. It was so faint. I could barely hear him. I couldn't hold back any longer. I cried out, rubies poured from my lips, as easily as the screams and tears did. "Stop hurting her!"

But Bellatrix did not relent. "You cannot win against me, Potter!" She cried out. "I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Art's from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-"

"Stupefy!" It did it's job. Bellatrix was forced to protect herself. She released the hold she had on me and cast a protego. I moved from my position and hid behind the fountain, as Harry had done. She could not curse me again. She would not curse me again. I would not let her. It took a moment for me to gather my wits. Harry sent me apologetic glance, but I gave him a smile.

"If we stand together, we can defeat her." I whispered. Harry nodded.

"I will give you one chance, one last chance, Potter," Bellatrix snarled out. "Give me the prophecy- roll it out toward me now- and I may spare your life!"

"You're going to just have to kill me then, because it's gone!" Harry roared out. He clutched his head in pain. I grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze, some support in his time of need. He needed me right now. "And he knows! Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What happened to it, Harry?" I whispered. He ignored me, clutching his wand.

"What? What do you mean?" There was a tremor of fear in her voice. Bellatrix was afraid, afraid of her master, Voldemort. The same man who had spared me when he could have killed me. I couldn't dwell on it, though. I had to keep my wits about me. I grasped my wand even harder. He wouldn't spare me this time, but I wasn't even important, not really. It was Harry I had to protect. It'd always been Harry.

"I don't have it! It's smashed to bits- you're too late. Voldemort won't be happy with that, now will he?"

"Liar!" She shrieked. She was angry, I could tell, but there was terror, too. She was frightened. So terribly frightened. "You've got it, Potter-"

"Impedimenta!" Bellatrix had been distracted, she was knocked back on her feet. I knew the same spell wouldn't work twice, she was on her guard now. I ducked back and wracked my brain how to get her again. Bellatrix shakily stood to her feet.

"Accio Prophecy!" She cried out, desperately. "Accio Prophecy!"

"There's nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said! Tell your boss that-

"No!" Bellatrix screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! Master, I tried!" She sobbed, bowing to nothing, her head in her hands. "M-master, I-I... I tried to stop him, I tried to save the prophecy-"

"Don't waste your breath-" Harry said, as I sent a Stupefy her way. Bellatrix sat back up and rebounded it, hissing and snarling the word 'mudblood' underneath her breath. "He can't hear you from here!"

"I tried, do not punish me! I tried, I tried..." Bellatrix chanted, sobbing.

"Can't I, Potter?" The cold voice of Voldemort rang in the room, above Bellatrix's pathetic whimpering.

My blood ran cold, hearing his voice. It was truly frightening, knowing only moments later, your life could be taken from you. A glance at Harry and I knew he felt the same way. Voldemort was tall, thin, and hooded in black robes that surrounded him like a thick smoke. His face was hidden, but his eyes were very visible.

His wand was pointed at Harry, who was frozen on the spot. Voldemort didn't even so much as look at me. I moved in front of Harry, wand in hand, as a shield. I didn't even think about it. If it meant protecting Harry, of course I would give up my life. There wasn't any lingering doubts. It was a fact.

"I already spared your life, girl, do not waste it away by protecting the boy. Even if I do dispose of you, it will be of no help to him." As he said this, golden threads shot from his wand and wound around me. I couldn't move. My eyes widened in horror as my arms were bound to my side. With a flick of his wand, he moved me aside, gently, and placed me not too far off from Harry.

"Aren't you ever the interesting creature..." He said. At least he was momentarily distracted from Harry. So long as Harry was distracted, Dumbledore could come. He could help. He approached me and stared with an analytical gaze. He smirked, then turned back to Harry.

I struggled against my bonds, but the more I struggled, the weaker I became. I felt so helpless. I couldn't help Harry, and he needed me. I knew Voldemort was right, though. Even if Voldemort had killed me, Harry was right there behind me.

"So you smashed my prophecy?" Voldemort said softly. He stared at Harry with a menacing intent. "No, Bella," he said her name fondly, "he is not lying. I see the truth in his worthless mind. Months of preparation, months of effort, wasted away due to a handful of teenagers. My Death Eaters have allowed Harry Potter to thwart me again."

"Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" Bellatrix sobbed. She flung herself down at Voldemort's feet. I gave a snort of disgust, but it went unnoticed. "You should know, Master-"

"Be quiet, Bella." His voice thundered quietly, angrily, the quiet before the storm. I watched Harry, all I could do was watch him, as he stared at Voldemort. He was afraid, desperately afraid, frozen in shock. Bellatrix whimpered before the Dark Lord. "I shall deal with you later."

"But Master- he is here, he is below-"

It was clear by the way Voldemort approached Harry that he had not heard her, or rather, he wasn't paying her words much mind. He could only be Dumbledore. As far as I knew, Voldemort feared Dumbledore. It went without saying, as really, whenever Dumbledore was near, we were safe. Especially at Hogwarts.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," Voldemort said quietly. "You have been a thorn in my side for far too long. _Avada Kedavra_!"

"No!" I cried out. I watched as the jet of green light shined through the air, directed at my best friend. Time itself seemed to slow. It was then the headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain sprung alive and leaped in front of Harry to protect him, as I had been so willing to do.

"What? Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed. Venom dripped from his voice.

"It was foolish to come out here, Tom. The Aurors are on their way-" Dumbledore said, with great patience. How he could be calm at a time like this was simply astounding. My heart was pounding against my chest, threatening to burst. I could only imagine how Harry must feel.

"By which time I will be gone, and you, dead!" Voldemort spat. He sent another Killing Curse at Dumbledore, but he missed. It instead hit the Security Guard's desk, which burst into flame beside me. I struggled to move aside, away from the heat. Voldemort glanced my way and quelled the flames with an Aquamenti, something that had not gone unnoticed by the four of us- Bellatrix, Dumbledore, Harry and I. His actions toward me were confusing at best. I desperately wanted some answers.

I could do nothing except sit on the floor and watch, though. An all out duel ensued. Their casting was magnificent. It was one thing to watch someone cast a simple spell, maybe even to witness a duel between students, but to watch two powerful, wondrous and highly skilled wizards duel- indescribable.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" Voldemort questioned. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom." Dumbledore replied calmly. "I admit, merely taking your life would not satisfy me."

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" Voldemort snarled out.

"You are quite wrong. And that has been, and always will be, your greatest weakness." I watched as they fired one spell after another, casting both shields and curses, Fiendfyre, and could do nothing to help Dumbledore. I doubt I would have been much help anyway, but I would have liked to stayed by Harry's side. Fawkes swallowed the most recent killing curse Voldemort had sent Dumbledore's way, bursting into ashes. My heart ached a little for the bird, but his death would not last forever, anyway.

Dumbledore, wand in hand, made a swift, fluid motion. The water from the fountain rose, just after the snake of fire disappeared into smoke, and covered Voldemort, including his shield. For a few moments, Voldemort was only visible as a dark, rippling, faceless figure. Even so, I knew his eyes were on me. His voice echoed throughout the room.

"The girl for Potter, Dumbledore. Give me the girl and I will leave this place, and you and the boy will die another day." It was the only moment of negotiation he was willing to suffer, and offer Dumbledore.

Dumbledore and Harry gave me a glance. Harry's gaze was full of questions, but Dumbledore's held a sense of knowing. What did he know? Why would Voldemort even consider trading me for Harry? I thought, for a brief moment, that he was going to consider it. But he wasn't, and he didn't. I was so relieved.

"Not today, Tom."

Voldemort snarled and disappeared, gone, and the water crashed around where he had once stood.

"Master!" Bellatrix cried out, though unheeded.

It seemed like it was over. As if Dumbledore had won. Voldemort had disappeared and Dumbledore looked about him frantically. His eyes turned to me for a moment before turning to Harry, and demanded that he stayed where he was. Harry did as he was told. I frowned.

Where was Voldemort? Bellatrix was still sobbing quietly on the floor, and I knew he would never leave his precious Bella. That's when I heard it- heard him. He was behind Harry's voice, inside Harry himself. He turned his voice, Harry's voice, into something fiendish and monstrous. I could hardly believe it was him.

"_Kill me now, Dumbledore," _he hissed. _"Kill the boy... If death means nothing, kill him..." _ I stared at him, dumbfounded, but then, once again, it was gone. Harry was Harry once again, and both Voldemort and Bellatrix had disappeared. I stood and pocketed my wand as Dumbledore approached Harry with a fierce look in his eye. I knew that he was not angry at Harry though.

Worried, perhaps, as I was as well. The golden coils around me disappeared and I immediately ran for my friend. A hundred or so people entered the room, cameras flashing and questions roaring. Dumbledore answered none of it, and neither did Harry or myself, until the Minister came into the room. I grabbed a hold of Harry's shoulder to assure him that everything was going to be alright, even though I knew, at the present, nothing would be. He seemed to appreciate the gesture.

:S:

After being questioned and photographed, and the students accounted for, we were shipped off to Hogwarts to be treated of our injuries. Harry had gone up to Dumbledore's office, as he'd asked. I sat by the Griffin statue, waiting for Harry to return. Dumbledore wanted to see me, and I could only hope he had some answers for me. I didn't understand why Voldemort would even offer to trade his chance to kill Harry for me. I just didn't understand.

Dumbledore was undoubtedly speaking to Harry about the loss of Sirius. I buried my face in my hands as I recalled everything from the battle, wondering what we could have done differently. One thing stood out in particular. We could have not gone at all. If Harry had occluded his mind like he was supposed to, Sirius wouldn't have died, and the others, Luna, Ron, Neville and Ginny, they wouldn't have gotten hurt. I couldn't blame him, however. I would have done the same.

"Mione?"Harry knelt down in front of me. He grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet. There was a lot unspoken between us, a lot of questions neither one of us could answer just yet. Hopefully Dumbledore could. "Dumbledore wants to see you now."

I nodded. "Will you be alright?" Harry shook his head. The tears were fresh in his eyes.

"No," he said, honest. "But I will be, eventually." He gave me a hug and patted my back. "I'll wait here for you."

I made my way up the stairs and entered Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, tired and worn. It was, quite possibly, the first time I ever seen him look his age. His hands looked worn and scarred, his eyes drooped, they did not sparkle, behind his half moon spectacles. His beard was ragged and unkempt. War did this to a person, I couldn't deny it then and I certainly can't now. War changes people. Some it changes very little, though the scars are still there, and some lives are irrevocably different a closest friend wouldn't recognize them anymore. War did this in the past, and the second war was only just beginning.

"Please sit, Hermione." I did as I was told. I was nervous. "Tom knew by saying those things, it would force me to reveal something I have no desire to." He paused and folded his hands together, looking at me behind those half moon spectacles.

"Harry Potter was not the first child I had to give away, either to relatives or to a loving family. One evening on the eve of yet another battle, Tom came to me. It was the first and last time he ever came to me for anything. He looked aged from the boy I knew at Hogwarts, the Dark Arts had yet to take control of him completely, but it had taken it's toll on his body." At this he paused, turning to the baby Fawkes, his phoenix who had yet to reach maturity. Fawkes gave a low, soothing trill, as if he was speaking with Dumbledore. Dumbledore, in turned, smiled slightly and patted the bird's head.

"In his arm he held a babe, wrapped warmly in a thick green blanket, trimmed with silver. I was surprised to see it. Tom had always had a distaste for children, and had never fathered any, as far as I knew. I asked the question which begged to be asked; 'Whose child is it?' He scoffed, said that he would not carry another child but his own.

"He explained to me the mother had died during childbirth and he could not care for her, and his Death Eaters were unsuitable. He told me to give her to a good family, as he would be keeping an eye on her. If she was ever mistreated, he explained he had no qualms with killing and torturing them as well as any muggles in the surrounding area. I believe that was the only time I have ever seen him protective over another human being. He requested that she keep the name he'd given her- Hermione."

My world shattered. Lord Voldemort was my father. Lord Voldemort! The most powerful and evil sorcerer in the world! I could hardly believe it.

"And you're sure of this? You know this for a fact?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I have the memory, if you wish to see it."

"I... Yes, please. I need to see it for myself." Dumbledore nodded in understand and stood. He withdrew the Pensieve from it's shelf and collected the proper memory. The silver liquid poured black in the water. My fingers traced the surface, and I plunged inside.

:S:

It was as Dumbledore described. He was sitting in his office, looking much younger than the one she knew, shuffling through papers on his desk. He looked old and worn. Tired, weary.

The oak doors opened, and in came the black billowing smoke of Voldemort. He held a babe in a thick green blanket, with silver silk trimming. His head was hooded, and she could barely make out his face. She knew, though, his eyes were red and he looked less than human, though likely more so than he did now.

Dumbledore gazed at Tom and his eyes then turned to the baby in his arms. I watched as Tom sat down, without Dumbledore's permission, and showed him the baby. Me.

"Greetings Tom. I assume you are not here for a peaceful surrender."

"You know better than that, Dumbledore." He said, cold.

"Whose child is it, Tom?" Dumbledore asked. Voldemort scoffed.

"As if I would handle any other child than my own." He gazed down at the cooing child and was silent for a long moment. "Her mother died giving birth to her. I cannot care for her myself, and my followers are unsuitable for the job."

"You wish for me to give her to a good home." Dumbledore stated. The Dark Lord nodded.

"If you do not, Dumbledore, I will have no qualms with killing both her... caretakers and any muggles in the surrounding area. I will be keeping an eye on her."

"You do not wish for her to go to an orphanage?" Dumbledore asked. He folded his hands in front of him, studying the girl in his arms. I glanced back to Voldemort. He held the girl -me- in his arms protectively, acting as a shield, almost. Could he really desire the safety of his child? How could he? He was a sociopath- how could he love another being, other than himself?

"She is my blood. She is Salazar's heir, my heir. She deserves _better_ than that." Dumbledore sighed. He stood and held out his arms.

"Very well, Tom. I will see to it that she goes to a good home." Voldemort nodded and handed the girl over.

"She _must_ keep her name, Dumbledore."

"And what might that be?" He asked, rocking the girl in his arms. Voldemort hesitated.

"Hermione. Her name is Hermione."

:S:

It was true. It was true. I was the daughter of the Dark Lord. I could hardly believe it, but I saw the proof right there. The memory had gone on- Dumbledore had left me on my parent's doorstep that night, with a letter, explaining how my mother was dead and my father unsuitable. He stayed until he knew the Granger's had taken me in.

"There is one thing I still don't understand, though..." I admitted. I was thinking on past events, that didn't fit in with recent events.

"I should have understood him." Dumbledore raised a brow.

"Beg your pardon?"

"I should have understood him," I repeated. "Harry, in our second year. He spoke parsaltongue. If I am Voldemort's daughter, I should be able to speak and understand it myself. But I can't." Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples, his fingers bony and withered looking.

"You have to understand, Hermione, I knew Tom was a powerful wizard. Ever since he was a boy, I knew he could do things most wizards should not. With him, as your father... I could not risk it. I could not risk another child, another innocent child whom I failed in protecting... I could not allow you such power."

"So you took it from me? How?"

"I cannot explain it, nor will I. Tom will be looking for you now that he has seen you. I suggest you take precautions, Hermione." I nodded in understanding and left his office. As promised, Harry was waiting for me.

"What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" I opened my mouth to reply, but I just... I couldn't form the words. There was so much to tell him, but I was afraid to. My father was his number one enemy. It shouldn't change anything between us, but who was I kidding? It changed _everything. _It wasn't my fault, nor was it Harry's, but we were in a war. Being Voldemort's heir... if people found out, they wouldn't trust me anymore.

It was a sad, unfortunate truth. Things would change. Was I being selfish in hoping nothing would? I'd die for Harry. He was my best friend. And my father... my father...

"Mione?" I looked up at him and gathered the courage to speak. It was hard, my words stumbled, but if anyone deserved to know the truth, it would be Harry.

"Dumbledore told me that- that I'm... My parent's aren't really my parents." I finished lamely. Confusion flickered in Harry's startling green eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and waited for me to continue. When the silence nearly became unbearable, he asked,

"Then- who is?"

"That's the thing... It's, well, Voldemort." I swallowed the hard lump that formed in my throat, and Harry just stared at me. He didn't seem angry or outraged, he wasn't throwing a tantrum- he was being calm. My first thought was that he didn't understand. "Voldemort's my father, Harry."

"I heard you." We began walking, slowly, down the hall to the Gryffindor common room, where Ginny, Ron, and Neville were waiting. Luna had gone back to her own common room. "I, to be honest, I'm not surprised. Whenever I look at you, Hermione, there has always been a sort of... acknowledgment. Voldemort saw you too, I guess, in his mind's eye. A feeling of... Pride? I dunno, I could never really place it, and I sort of ignored it. But it makes sense."

"And you never told me?" I asked him. Harry shrugged.

"It was just a feeling, Hermione, and I had more pressing things on my mind usually. Besides, I didn't want you to lecture me about closing my mind again." He gave a terse sort of smile and I didn't have the heart to follow through with the lecture I was planning in my head. Instead I nodded and pursed my lips.

"Everything's going to change now, isn't it."

"I hope not. Whatever anyone says, I trust you, Hermione. I couldn't have made it this far without you." I beamed. I was happy to hear that Harry didn't hate me. Things would work out in the end, or so I hoped.

:S:

I arrived home a day later. Harry and I agreed to keep it a secret, for now, from the Weasleys and Neville. For now, it was just between me, Harry, and Dumbledore. And.. my parents. When I arrived home, I was relieved to see that they were still alive. No shining green skull over their house. I was so relieved, you have no idea. I thought he would take me from them. Or worse.

"Sweety, I'm so glad your back. We've missed you." My mum kissed my cheek as I entered the door and I gave her a hug and kiss.

"I've missed you too Mum. Let me put my things upstairs, and I'll tell you about my year." Rose smiled and grasped my hands.

"Of course dear. Your father should be home at any moment. I'll get supper on the table." I nodded and put up my things, as I said. I plopped down on my bed and sighed, closing my eyes. I was going to bring up my "adoption" though technically I wasn't. I just didn't know how to bring it up.

I heard the door open and close, and my father greet my mother. "Is Hermione here?" He asked.

"She's up in her room," Mum said. I could just imagine her taking his coat before planting a kiss on his lips, as was routine. I didn't care what anyone said, they were my parents. They raised me. Voldemort gave me away.

I stood up from my bed and went down to greet my father. He was the same as ever, clean cut hair, perfectly combed, kind eyes accompanied with a similar smile. He handed my mum a dozen roses and kissed her on the lips. They were so in love. I prayed that Voldemort would never come to take me away from them, that everything would remain the same.

"Daddy," I greeted. "How was you day at work?"

"Wonderful, sweet. Gave the Johnson boy a root canal, too many sweets. I warned his mother what sweets would do to his teeth, but she is just dead set on spoiling the lad." He kissed me on the head and turned back to Mum.

"When's dinner? I'm starving."

"It's on the table." Nerves boiled within me. Dinner time was usually the time when we had serious discussions. Mum used to say that breakfast was far too early and lunch too casual. No, it was always at the dinner table you had proper discussions on something bothering you. Today would be no different. But I was afraid to ask, I didn't want to hurt their feelings or anything. At the same time, I needed to confront them about it. To clarify, to know if it truly was real.

Dad sat at his usual seat, at the head of the table. Mum sat on his left, and I sat on his right. When I was a little girl he used to call me his go-to girl. Whenever he needed to know something, usually just to quiz me to see if I knew, he would ask me.

He'd ask me about all sorts of things. Geography, Literature, History, Science. Especially when I cam home for the summer. Even if I was getting educated on magic, they saw no reason for me to neglect my other studies. I felt enriched, lucky to know so much about both worlds. And yet, I knew so little, too.

"This looks simply delicious, Rose," Dad commented. Rose flushed a little at the praise and rested her hand on Dad's.

"Thank you Hugo."

They were beginning to dig in to the meal, and thats when I plucked up the courage to ask. It was strange, I never really needed courage to talk to my parents. I could talk to them about anything. It didn't mean I did, but I knew I could. One thing they didn't know was the war. They knew something was up, and I did tell them the basic details, but not of my direct involvement. They wouldn't allow me to go back to school if I had.

I almost felt bad for not telling them about the war, especially how close I was to it, but I knew I couldn't tell them. They were targeted enough. Once I thought it was because I was Muggleborn. But now I knew it was because I was Voldemort's daughter. I doubted he was terribly pleased about me being raised by Muggles, even if he had expressed for Dumbledore to give me to them.

"Mum? Daddy?" My grip tightened on my fork, even as I met their gaze. First my mum, then my dad. I took a deep breath. I needed to do this. I needed to continue. I had to. "I was wondering- I mean, I know..."

"Go ahead dear, you know you can tell us anything." Dad picked up, smiling. I pursed my lips and nodded. Him saying that just made it harder for me to speak my mind. But I was a Gryffindor. I could do this. I had to do this.

"I know I was left on your doorstep sixteen years ago."

Mum dropped her fork and gave a nervous glance to Dad, who watched me. He heaved a sigh and nodded, putting down his fork and knife. Mum did the same and smiled. She was glad the truth came out. I watched them for any signs of discomfort, or, or something that wasn't there.

"How did you find out?" Dad asked.

"Professor Dumbledore. Circumstances forced him to, really." I replied. "You know I don't care, don't you? You raised me as your own, you're my parents. Not- not him."

"So you know who your biological father is, then? Dumbledore did not tell us in the letter that came with you." Mum said. I nodded and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, much good it did me.

"It doesn't matter, though. He's not my father, as far as I'm concerned." Dad gave a smile as he patted my hand.

"We love you, dear. You're our little girl." I gave them both a big smile. I was the happiest I had ever been in those moments.

That night, Mum came to me with a folded green blanket; it looked rather old. She sat down beside me on my bed, and I set aside the book I was reading. I recognized the blanket immediately as the one Voldemort had wrapped me in.

Wordlessly I took it from her, and unfolded it. It was rather small, by comparison, but thick so that I would have been warm. There were loose threads at the trimmings, but otherwise, it was in fairly good condition. Unfolded I could see my name in shining gold threads.

I remembered it, if vaguely. I used to sleep with it when I was younger. But then, one day, it was just gone. I had been so upset.

"You used to talk to the snake on the back," Mum said. "At first I thought it was adorable, but then you were speaking in some foreign language, hissing. I was scared. So I took it away, and sent a letter to Dumbledore. He did something, and you couldn't speak it again. I'm wondering if I did the right thing, by taking it away from you."

"No... you did the right thing, Mum. Thank you for returning it." I could tell Mum was thinking on something, so I didn't say anything more. I was more so focused on the feel of it. It was wool, and soft under my touch. Mum took care of it rather well, it seemed.

"Why snakes?" She asked me after a moment of silence. "It seems like such a boyish thing, why give a blanket with a snake on it to a little girl?"

"It... has to do with my ancestry," I replied vaguely. "My father is very proud of his heritage. It makes sense that he would give me something like this."

"Well," Mum said, patting my leg. "I'll leave you to it, then. Just remember, my dear. We love you, and nothing can change that." I gave her a small smile.

"I love you too, Mum." And no one could change that fact. Not even Voldemort.

* * *

**So, changes in this chapter:**

**Hermione's parents aren't dead.**

**Hermione hasn't told Ron, or Ginny, or anyone besides Harry who her father really is.**

**Voldemort didn't tell her, but forced Dumbledore to tell her.**

Thats all I can think of. Drop me a PM and let me know if you preferred this one over the other, or vice versa. Personally I like the changes I've made.


	2. Chapter 2

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

If you are just tuning in (hahaha) you'll find that Blood Ties is very different. I'm rewriting it. So I would suggest re-reading the first chapter. Changes, if you don't feel like reading it, are written in bold at the bottom. Please inform me which you prefer. I'm pretty sure I'm rolling with this version, but I'll include more of the original, if you so desire it.

Also, a reminder on the Poll. If you haven't already voted, please do so. Your opinion matters to me. Thank you.

* * *

They came in the middle of the night. Voldemort was just so kind to give me two weeks with my parents before he, ultimately, took me away from them. And them from me. I woke up to a wand pointed at my throat and a pissed off Death Eater staring down at me. I couldn't recognize him, I didn't know who he was. He looked incredibly angry.

"_Crucio." _He hissed. I screamed out, writhing in my bed. The thing about the Cruciatus Curse is that it attacks your nervous system directly, along with your magical core. It turns your own magic against you, causing you direct pain. It's why it's an Unforgivable. I felt my sheets wrap themselves around my legs, restricting my movement. Tears streamed from my eyes, my throat ached from screaming. It was payback for the Ministry, it had to be.

"Rowle," I heard another voice say. It was faint, hard to hear because of my screaming. "The Dark Lord wants her unharmed."

"I'm not harming her," He said. "Physically, at least. This mudblood needs to learn a lesson."

"Restrain yourself! You'll be able to play with the mudblood later. For now, immobilize her and apparate her back to Headquarters. Unless you would wish the Dark Lord's anger upon you?" The man snarled.

"You just don't want me playing with your precious student, Snape. I heard you had a thing for Mudbloods in the past." Rowle snarled out. Snape? Professor Snape was here? What was he- oh, finally, he let up. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself to the best of my ability. Looking over, I saw Snape point his wand at Rowle, then me.

"_Immobulous."_ He said softly. He gave me a long, hard, unforgiving look before leaving the room. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe. I was stuck. Rowle's lip curled before grasping me by my hair and apparating out of my home. I felt the familiar pull at my insides before everything was normal again. He then pulled my wand from my pocket. Eyes scrunched, a gasp escaped my lips when he yanked me back by my hair.

I opened my eyes when I heard a distinct snap. My wand, now destroyed, fell from his hands. He smirked. I was defenseless.

We were in a dark, damp cell now. Water leaked down the sides and there were rusty bars in front of us. Rowle grinned wickedly as he threw me down, my head hitting against the stone wall. I heard a crack, but I couldn't tell if the wetness on my head was from the slime on the walls or my own blood. It hurt, but I was more concerned about my parents. What were they going to do to them? What did I think- I knew. They were going to go through hours of torture and it was my fault. They were going to be killed, and it was all my fault.

I should have left. I should have known Voldemort would want me back and I should have ran away accordingly. Change their memories, remove any sense of me in the house, throw the Death Eaters off. I should have, but I didn't. I had hoped- I had hoped Voldemort would have left me alone. But once he wants something, he gets it.

"_Crucio!" _Rowle said softly. His eyes sparkled with madness. He was reviling in my screams, at my pain. So I resolved not to scream. I bit down hard on my tongue so I would not. I wouldn't allow him the pleasure. Blood filled my mouth, and I swallowed and swallowed, it was making me sick. But I would not scream. Not for him. Frowning, Rowle approached me while I writhed. He did not let up his spell, not for a moment, but kicked me in the side. I grunted, and vomited all over his shoes. Only then did he let up the spell.

"You disgusting piece of shite!'" Rowle pointed his wand at his shoes and said, _"Scourgify." _The vomit was cleaned up. Rowle returned his attention to me. "I'll teach you some manners, mudblood! _Sectusempra!" _

It felt like a hundred knives were cutting into my skin, cutting me open. In all actuality, my skin was splitting open. It was incredibly warm, with my blood covering me. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. It hurt, it hurt so damn much. Tears leaked from my eyes. _"Crucio!" _My nerves were on fire. I just wanted it to end. It hurt so much.

"Please," I whispered. "Make it stop. Please make it stop."

"What was that, mudblood?" Rowle asked. "I didn't quite hear you."

"Make it stop," I sobbed, louder. I hated giving in, but it hurt so much. I was losing so much blood.

Rowle scoffed. "Don't worry, Mudblood, I'll convince the Dark Lord to let me have you." He knelt down beside me, and caressed my cheek. Tears leaked from my eyes, but I remained still. Silent. His hands followed my body, touching me, hovering over my form. I whimpered.

"Rowle." That voice, I recognized. It was Voldemort. He was eerily calm, and something seemed incredibly offsetting about it. I was almost afraid for Rowle. Almost. I took a staggering breath, but I remained calm. Everything was so fuzzy. I could barely make anything out. But I knew Voldemort. I knew his presence. It was almost tangible. "What are you doing?"

"M-my lord, I was punishing the mudblood, I-I..." Rowle stammered. He was scared. As he should be.

"Did I not give specific orders not to harm the girl, Rowle?" Voldemort asked. Rowle remained silent. Apparently he thought it was better to ignore the Dark Lord than to spill how he had deliberately ignored his orders. Can't say I blamed him.

"Do you not think I would not have good enough reason for protecting her?" Voldemort asked, his voice colder, harsher. I couldn't sit up. I was getting dizzy, losing too much blood. His words became hazy, my vision blurred. I gasped, struggling to breathe but it hurt to much.

"_Crucio!" _The Dark Lord hissed. Rowle screamed.

"P-please-" I whispered. I couldn't see Voldemort, but I could feel his gaze on me. "Losing t-too... much blood... too much blood..." Almost immediately I felt another presence enter the room.

"Miss Riddle-"

"She is hurt. Rowle used your own spell- Sectumsempra. Heal her, Severus, or it'll be your life." Severus bowed and knelt down next to me. He gazed down and told me everything would be alright, before I passed out.

:S:

When I woke, I was very tired. It felt like all my energy had been drained from me. If I could have, I would have sat up. I couldn't remember how I got there, why the bed was incredibly comfy, or what had happened before. Something, or someone, stopped me.

"Do not get up."

It was Snape. I trusted him, even in that environment, and I did as he said. I turned my head just enough to see him standing nearby, holding a few potions in his hands. He looked down his nose at me, a snarl on his lips. But when was Snape not snarling?

When the memories came back, I asked, "So he told you then?"

"I knew in your fourth year. But neither the Dark Lord nor Dumbledore agreed it was the right time to tell you. So I did not breathe a word." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"None of that. Sit up. You will need to drink these." He gently, but not kindly, helped me into a sitting position and I drank the potions. The taste of them was foul, as ever. I scrunched up my eyes and shook my head. I instantly regretted it as my head became lighter than a balloon.

"The spell Rowle used on you was one of my own design. It created lesions in your body and drained you of your blood. If the Dark Lord had not called me in time, you would have died. Added onto the Cruciatus Curse, I can only imagine your body is feeling a bit sore."

"What was it he used?" I asked, lying back down. "Sectumsempra?"

"Yes." Snape recalled tonelessly. "Now get some rest. The Dark Lord may desire you unharmed, but that does not mean you should not be emotionally prepared."

"My parents-" I whispered, bolting up. I covered my mouth, nauseous. The acid was lingering in my mouth, and I was so close to retching all over Snape's shoes.

"Get some rest, Miss Riddle." Unfortunately, I could only do what he said and sleep.

:S:

When I next awoke, it wasn't Snape who was at my bedside, but Voldemort. He gazed down at me and I could read a thing in his eyes. I sat up, tired but it was much easier this time. He was sitting in the arm chair, tapping his finger against his chin, deep in thought. Or so I assumed, as he didn't say a thing.

"You look much like your mother," he finally said. That took me by surprise. It certainly wasn't the first thing I expected to come from him. Actually, I assumed he would say something about-

"Harry?" He finished for me. I flushed and closed my eyes, realizing he was in my mind. "Another day, Hermione. Now, however, I need you to get dressed into something in the wardrobe there. Dimpy-" the elf cracked in the room as he spoke her name- "will assist you, and take you to the Assembly Room." Voldemort stood as he spoke, ready to leave. My eyes followed him as he moved toward the door.

"W-wait! My parents, what about my parents-"

"They are _not_ your parents, Hermione." He said coldly. He didn't allow me to retort. He left, leaving me with the house elf. Dimpy was an old elf, her back hunched over and her body wrinkled from her years of servitude. She had large blue eyes that were not unkind. She was dressed in rags, as was usual for house elves, and I pursed my lips. I didn't like the fact she was here to help me, I didn't need her to. But Voldemort had ordered her to help me, and if she didn't, she'd punish herself. I liked that even less.

"Silver is your color, mistress," Dimpy crooned softly as she waddled over to the wardrobe. Well no wonder it was my supposed color, there wasn't any other color in it! I suppose Voldemort thought it was better than me wearing red around the place. I was pretty sure he was thoroughly disappointed I wasn't in Slytherin. Need it be said that I was pleased with the fact?

She took out a gorgeous cashmere robe and helped me dress; it fit perfectly. She then took some of my hair and held it back with a green clasp. Let me just say I looked a lot more elegant than I felt. I looked like nobility. I felt like I was about to die. She made me slip on some shoes before declaring I was ready to go to the meeting.

"Meeting?" I asked. Surely not one of those meetings, with all his Death Eaters and- dear Merlin, I was going to die. He made me get all dressed up so I would die. No, no that was a ridiculous thought. He wouldn't have saved me from Rowle if he just wanted me dead; Rowle would have done a fine job on his own. Then what...? My eyes widened and my mouth dropped. My parents. "Dimpy, take me to the meeting, please."

Dimpy bowed. "It would be my pleasure, mistress." She ushered me forward into a galloping walk I had to keep up with. I never would have judged her capable, but if she still wanted to be of use to people, she couldn't be slow about serving them. The beheaded elves of Grimmauld Place flashed through my mind. I did not blame Dimpy at all.

We walked through a long hall upon leaving my room. The carpet was purple and the walls a misty grey. Every ten feet there was a window with the drapes pulled back to allow in the moonlight. There was something incredibly odd about what lied outside the windows, so I knew they had to be enchanted to give off a false scene. Either Voldemort didn't want me to know where we were, or it was simply the status quot.

We passed several doors in the hall. I was tempted to see what was in them, but I didn't want to risk Voldemort punishing Dimpy for my actions. Finally, we came upon a large set of doors that almost touched the ceiling. Dimpy held up a hand for me to stop and wobbled forward. She pushed open the doors. Her voice carried through; she was announcing my presence.

It was very odd, and not very appealing. I wasn't royalty or nobility or whatever. I was simply Hermione. However, being Hermione, I knew it was my best bet to go with the flow, as it were, at that moment in time. Dimpy knew much better than me how the place was run, so I wouldn't question it. For now. If there was the slightest chance my parents were still alive, I knew I had to be on my best behavior for it to stay that way.

"His lordship will be seeing you now, mistress. Simply call for Dimpy when mistress is in need of her." I nodded and gave a grim sort of smile, as it was the best I could do for the moment. Dimpy cracked away, and I was left alone in the hall. I steadied myself for only a moment, gathering my composure so I wouldn't give my emotions away. I wouldn't let Voldemort win this. I was too stubborn.

Around the edges of the Assembly Hall was a large array of Death Eaters, not just those of his Inner Circle. There were no familiar faces, save for Bellatrix and Wormtail, from the casual glance I gave them. Voldemort was seated in a throne of a chair, which I could only suppose was supposed to add to his Dark Lord status.

He looked very intimidating, on his throne. He was very calm and collected, with his snake, Nagini, at his side. His eyes sparkled like rubies in the sun, deep as the blood he spilled. He looked even paler than usual, his veins could be seen with the right flicker of light from the candles on the walls.

I glanced from him to the people in the middle of the room, and I recognized them instantly. My parents. They were safe, and unharmed as far as I could tell. I wanted to run to them, but Voldemort's interrogation of them stopped me in my tracks.

"Do tell, Muggles, and answer truthfully for your life depends on it, how you have treated my daughter all these years." I glanced from him to my parents. I had nothing to fear for them, for now, as they had always treated me kindly.

"Hermione is very special, we've always known that," Hugo, my father, stated. They were at a kneeling position, something I'm sure was forced upon them. My father was the type of person willing to give others respect, so long as he was treated the same way. But here, he was clearly treated as an inferior, and once more, his life, and his wife's life, was at stake. "We love her and never mistreated her, why would we?"

"You did not hate her for her magic?"

"No," my mother, Rose, replied. "We always knew- Dumbledore told us in the letter that was with her when he gave her to us. We knew she was a witch, and we didn't hate her for what she was."

"You knew and didn't tell me?" I asked them. Their heads turned, and I could see that, aside from a few scratches, they were alright. They must have been tortured magically.

"Hermione, love, you're alright." Rose breathed in relief.

"Of course I'm alright. Mum, why didn't you tell me I was a witch?" Voldemort and his Death Eaters were silent. It was interesting, what was unfolding before them. Here they were, listening in on what could be Voldemort's private affairs. It was clear to me he wanted them to know I was his daughter, and that this show was to explain everything- why I was here relatively unharmed, and why the muggles hadn't been killed yet.

"Dumbledore had instructed us not to, dear. He was afraid-" Hugo began.

"He was afraid? Of what? That'd I would turn up like Voldemort?" I asked. The crowd of Death Eaters gasped, and sent worried glances to Voldemort, but he merely watched, a gleeful expression on his face. Everything was turning out like he had hoped it would.

"Yes." Hugo finished. "He was afraid you would end up like him."

"What I'm struggling to understand, though," Voldemort intervened, which was a lie, he never struggled to understand anything, "Is why you just accepted Hermione into your home, knowing she was a witch, and never knowing a thing about magic."

Hugo was silent and Rose's gaze was down at the floor. She wasn't looking at me anymore.

"We always wanted a daughter, and we couldn't conceive children ourselves, so of course we accepted her. No matter the circumstances around it." Hugo replied. I knew my dad though. I could tell when he was lying. He was really bad at it, which was why Mum was the one who usually lied to me. Harmless lies, but I was about to realize, even the most harmless could be the most painful.

"Dad, you're such a bad liar." Hugo gave me a defeated look. "Tell the truth. Why did you take me in?"

"We'd always been friends with Dumbledore, sweetheart." Rose replied softly.

"But, you're Muggles-" I paused as it dawned on me. Voldemort's smirk grew. "You're squibs." Rose shook her head.

"No dear, Hugo isn't. But I am. I was born to a magical family, a friend of Dumbledore, but since it came out that I was a squib, I lived my life as a muggle. I had explained it to Hugo early on in our relationship. He never thought any of it was real, until you came along."

"So you lied to me." I said on approach. I took a deep steadying breath. It was difficult to comprehend, but as I was learning, not everything in my life was as it seemed.

"And it was only because Rose here was a squib I allowed you to stay in the Granger home," Voldemort finished. "Worthless as they both are." Rose flinched, and Hugo's jaw became tense. He was holding back. He wanted to attack Voldemort but he knew he couldn't.

I ignored Voldemort. "So, this entire time, you were watching me. For the Order, to know it I was- what, a threat? I was a child! And when you heard me speak Parseltongue, you were afraid I was going to end up like him. And- you raised me as if you were Muggles, so I would know... so I would know..."

"That there was good in the Muggle world too, yes." Rose finished. "Dumbledore made sure you went to a good home so you wouldn't hate Muggles and Muggleborns. He also wanted to keep an eye on you."

"So the entire time, you lied to me. About everything?"

Hugo shook his head fervently. "No, love, not everything. We do love you like a daughter, we always have and nothing will change that. Dumbledore just wanted to make sure..."

"That there weren't two Voldemort's around. He didn't want me to end up dark."

"Good and evil do not exist, Hermione." Voldemort said softly. "Do you hate them for lying to you? Do you wish for me to kill them?" Rose and Hugo's eyes widened in fear. I didn't hate them. I was angry that they lied, that Dumbledore manipulated me, but I understood his reasoning. I'm glad he gave me to the Grangers. I didn't want to end up like Voldemort either. Still, it didn't make the sting of their betrayal any better.

"No, please no." I said on their behalf.

"I have to do something, Hermione. After all, your mother is a member of the Order. Not to mention a filthy squib. And whats worse, she married a Muggle. Three charges against her. I'd say that warrants some punishment, don't you agree, my Death Eaters?" Voldemort asked as he stepped from his throne. His Death Eaters cheered in agreement. They were hungry for blood, and for pain.

"Bella, Rodolphus, come here." Voldemort ordered. The crowd, some hundreds of Death Eaters, roared in excitement. The two proudly stepped forward, gleaming and leering with excitement. Bellatrix bowed lowly and asked,

"What will you have of us, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"Crucio them. Nothing else." Rodolphus bowed and said,

"Very well, my Lord. As you command." I watched as Bellatrix and Rodolphus circled my parents, crucioing them. Their screams tore through my brain as tears clouded my eyes. They were in so much pain... so much pain. Their screams were muffled slightly by the roar of the crowd. In it, I could see Draco Malfoy standing next to his mother. Neither one looked very happy. Neither was I.

"Please, stop, stop! I'll do whatever you ask, just don't hurt them, please!" Voldemort raised a hand and Bellatrix and Rodolphus paused in their torture. I could hear my parents gasping for breath, but I didn't look at them. I kept my eyes on Voldemort, ignoring the calls of disapproval.

He slowly walked forward, like a snake, slithering through the grass. His lips quirked to a small smirk and he said, "This reminds me. Someone amongst my Death Eaters had decided to punish my daughter." All the Death Eaters fell silent.

"He was not properly punished for his actions. No one harms my daughter and gets away with it. Step forward," The large flock waited with baited breath. Even Bellatrix and Rodolphus were listening in. "Rowle." He was shoved forward from the horde, rejected by his own companions.

He cowered before his Lord and Master, on his knees, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. Voldemort sneered. "What say you, Rowle, of this crime?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, I knew not! I knew not! If I had but of known..." Rowle cried. He looked like a giant baby, crying and whining, waiting on someone to help him. It was disgusting. He was disgusting.

"But you have not pleased me enough to be privy to that information, Rowle. And so you thought you could take matters into your own hands, punish her for something she did not commit." Voldemort turned to me, and his smirk grew.

"I will give you a choice, Hermione," he said. "You will either punish Rowle as he so deserves, or your parents will continue to suffer until they share the same fate as the Longbottoms. The choice is yours." I turned to my parents as they began screaming their hearts out. They were in agony, and I could stop it, but to cast an Unforgivable...

"Don't do it Hermione!" Rose screamed out, gasping. "Don't become him! We're not worth it!"

"B-but Mum," I whispered as tears gathered in my eyes, "They're hurting you..." Voldemort watched with a steady gaze. I felt so guilty. I knew how to stop them, I knew what would, but I was afraid. Afraid of casting the spell, afraid that if it didn't work, Voldemort would just kill my parents anyway. But their screams, it tore through my head, ripping it to shreds. I was over wracked with misery, pain, and knowing that the only thing that would save them was going to destroy my soul.

The large throng of Death Eaters cheered Bellatrix and Rodolphus on. Some were even cheering for me, to join them, to become a part of them. My eyes found Draco's in the crowd. I don't know why. I felt that he would be the last one to see me as the person who would never do such a thing. But people will do crazy, incredible, horrible things for the people they love. I was no different.

I took Voldemort's offered wand and yelled, _"Crucio!" _Rowle's screams overshadowed my parents. I wasn't thinking about how it would save them. I wasn't thinking on the fact that they would live if I did this. I just wanted him to hurt like I did, to hurt more than I did. Bellatrix cried out in joy, I suppose she saw the poster girl for the Light turning to the Dark, releasing the spell on my parents. Rodolphus did the same.

"_Hermione no!" _Rose cried out. I released the spell, taking a deep breath. I just... felt nothing. I wanted to save my parents. So what if they lied to me, so what if they withheld certain information from me. I didn't care. They still raised me. I still loved them. Voldemort snarled out.

"Bella." She grinned and bowed.

"_Crucio!"_ I shut my eyes tight as their screams pierced my ears. Would this never end? Would they be tortured forever, because of me?

"What would you have me do?" I asked Voldemort softly. Rowle was whimpering on the floor from the effects of the Cruciatus, and the prospect of what might happen. Voldemort's wand was limp in my hand. It urged me to kill him. Just one simple spell. It twitched in my hands. Just one spell. That's all it would take for my parents to be safe from harm. Just one spell, and it would all be over.

Eyes red and cheeks stained, I took a shuddering breath, and closed my eyes. My parents. _My parents._ They were suffering. Harry would understand, wouldn't he? Ron would understand, too. He'd do anything to protect his family. Wouldn't he? I closed my eyes. Everything seemed to slow down.

In the background, I could hear the clamor of the horde, raging and screaming for the kill. I could feel Voldemort beside me, hissing into my ear to kill Rowle. Bellatrix was laughing giddily, Rodolphos smirking beside her. My parents were pleading for me not to do it. Not to kill Rowle. But if I didn't, what would happen to them? They would slowly become insane, or worse, Voldemort would have them killed. Rowle meant nothing to me, but my parents...

I slowly raised the wand, licking my lips in anticipation. I would do it. I had to. I couldn't continue to listen to their screams. I'd lose my sanity. But if I killed Rowle, I'd split my soul.

"_Av..." _I whispered. Voldemort's eyes sparkled with a certain madness and composure. He was gleeful. _One spell, Hermione... Just one spell, they'll be safe... They'll be protected... You can see them everyday... _What was my soul compared to the love of my parents? What was my soul compared to losing them?

"_Avad..." _I need to do this. I need to save them. I have to save them. I loved them. Voldemort, father though he may be, was not them. He didn't love me. He wouldn't even raise me.

"Do it Hermione," Voldemort said. "Two words, that's it." He wanted me to kill Rowle? But why? Why would he want me to kill a follower?

"_Avada Ka..." _I shut my eyes tight. Just one more word, that's all it would take and Bella and Rodolphus will stop screaming. I opened my eyes, and my gaze found Draco's. His expression, I will never forget it. He was scared. It was as if... if Voldemort could get me to kill someone by using my parents against me... who couldn't he destroy? Who couldn't he turn? He didn't want to be here anymore than I did. Draco would never be a nice person, but... there was a mutual standing, there. We did what we had to for our families. But the difference was... I wouldn't let him get to me. Harry needed me.

My grasp loosened on the wand. Everyone went silent and it thundered on the floor.

"I won't," I said softly, then louder, "I won't kill him. Do your own dirty work. I won't kill him."

Voldemort summoned the wand to his hand and his eyes narrowed. "He tortured you, Hermione. He nearly killed you."

"I don't care," I said. Voldemort held out his wand. I gazed at it, and to my horror, he gave me an ultimatum.

"Kill him, or I will kill your parents."

"No Hermione!" Rose called out. "Don't do it!"

But I couldn't. I wasn't that strong. To my greatest shame, I did. I did.

* * *

**So, changes in this chapter:**

**Hermione killed Rowle. **

**Voldemort is using her parents as black mail to keep her at wherever they are at. **

**Rose is a squib, and a member of the Order like Mrs. Figg.**

If I missed anything, I apologize. If you don't like it, I apologize.


	3. Chapter 3

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

I'm planning on updating only once every week, or two weeks. I am incredibly busy at the moment. DX. Sucks. However, the chapters will also be longer, as I will be writing in my spare time. Generally speaking I am aiming for 6-7,000 words each week.**_ Thanks so much for your reviews and input, guys! I appreciate it!_**

**Irritated:** I understand, I'd be irritated too. But, for one, if I had left the story as is and continued on I would have gotten so sick of it I would have never completed it. I couldn't stand to look at the thing. It had nothing to do with my muses or my schedule, but that it was just so full of faults I had to fix them. Not that this version is going to be perfect either, but it will certainly be better than the last one. Plus I felt everything went by too quickly. Trust me, it will be for the better. I apologize, I'm sorry you are frustrated and you feel it will take a thousand years. It will not. However, because it is my story, I am free to do with it what I will. If I choose to rewrite it in the middle of the story, I will do so. I never made any promises on that front. But I did promise to finish it. And so finish it I will.

* * *

I shut the book I was reading with a prominent thud. It came from Voldemort's personal library. Since I killed Rowle, I had access to just about anything. The dueling arena, a large room filled with non important items, was there if I should wish to fight anyone. All I had to do was approach them for a duel. Considering I was not a duelist, however, it was not much use to me.

The library was much more interesting. It reminded me of Hogwarts, in a way, however most of the books would belong in the Restricted Section, if not banned altogether. That evening, just three days after I killed Rowle, I had picked up a less than ominous book from the shelf to pass the time. I'd woken up from a particularly nasty dream, and it being one in the morning, I naturally turned to books.

There were other rooms. The kitchens, where the house elves worked, the large ball room where Draco had his etiquette and dancing lessons when he was a boy. I watched him dance the other day with Pansy Parkinson.

He was very good, but the music was a bit lackluster. Pansy, too, had been good. I almost wanted to dance myself, but I knew I couldn't possibly compare with them. Besides, all my dancing lessons had been concentrated on Muggle dances. Not Wizarding ones. (Of which they only had two- the Wizard's Waltz and the Wizard's Tango. Both were eerily close to their Muggle origins, but if I told anyone that they'd curse me on the spot.)

The only place I was restricted access, other than when Voldemort had his Death Eater meetings in the Assembly Room, were the dungeons. Now, I knew Voldemort had prisoners. Traitors from his side, and people from the Order's- mine.

So I understood that he didn't want me feeding information to Harry and Dumbledore when I leave for Hogwarts in September. However, I didn't care about that. I did in a way, but it was more of a detached sort of caring. I didn't know these people. I just wanted to see my parents.

Since Rowle, I hadn't been to see them. I couldn't. Draco had been ordered, along with Wormtail, (They worked in shifts.) to see to the prisoners and make sure they weren't bleeding out. Each time it was his turn, he would usually give me a nod of the head that they were alright.

It wasn't to say that I wasn't angry with them. My mum had kept it secret that she'd been a Squib my entire life. She freaked when she saw me speaking to snakes. She never gave me a chance to prove I wasn't like Salazar and Voldemort, and every other evil wizard in between.

My dad... I suppose he was just a bystander to the entire situation. He was a Muggle, not a Squib. He didn't know our world or what it was like. Still, he could have at least told me, but my mum must have told him not to.

I just... felt like they manipulated me, greatly. That my entire life turned out the way it did because of them, and Dumbledore. If I hadn't been raised by Rose and Hugo, what would I have been like? Even if I hadn't been raised by Voldemort, would I have disliked Muggles? Would I have so very little to do with their world? Or would I have been the same?

If Voldemort raised me, if my mother hadn't died during child birth, I know exactly how I turned out. Exactly like Draco, only much, much worse. I would have hated Muggles and their world, would have hated Squibs even more. I'd be so heavily enriched with the Dark Arts I would have to be in Slytherin. I'd torture Muggles and Muggleborns, and then with the entire Chamber of Secrets fiasco, I would have been utterly happy to see Muggleborns die.

But, then again, there was another 'what if' in that, too. What if Voldemort hadn't "died" when he tried to kill Harry? I was only about two years old. Voldemort couldn't have raised me, either way. It would have been up to my mother to raise me. So what had she been like?

I shook my head. Dwelling on what could have been and not the present- I had enough problems on my shoulders. For instance, my parents. I was still angry- angry that they didn't tell me the truth, about my lineage, about my powers (And I use the term loosely, the only thing Dumbledore took away would have been my ability to really succeed in Defense Against the Dark Arts and my Parselmouth abilities.) and that they had known all along where I came from. Mum lied about being a Squib, and Dad lied by omission.

But I didn't want them to die. I still loved them, I was just hurt that they would do that to me. And Dumbledore! He, like my parents, didn't even give me a chance. Just because I was Voldemort's offspring, he was so sure I'd end up an evil, Muggle hating Dark Wizard. And he made sure to prevent that, which I am forever grateful for, but I was just so angry that he would go so far as to take my birthright from me. Even with my abilities as a Parselmouth I would not have become like Voldemort.

It wasn't like I suddenly became proud of my heritage- Voldemort's entire goals and Salazar's past, but it was still mine. I could have been disgusted by it for all Dumbledore could have known, and refused to become like them- like I refuse to now. But I was never given a choice, and that, ultimately, pissed me off.

I don't generally like having my choices made for me. I don't like being given ultimatums. With Voldemort, all around I didn't have a choice. I had to be here, and I couldn't run away, not with my parents locked in a cold dungeon.

Besides that, Voldemort had anti-apparition wards surrounding Malfoy Manor, and I couldn't exit the premises unless given permission from Voldemort. I knew that already because I tried. There was a mar on my skin where a powerful stinging hex had hit me in the arm. It still hurt if it came in contact with water, or any sort of moisture, for that matter.

I didn't want to leave my parents to die, anyway. I was stuck. And where would I go? With no money and nothing but my clothes on my back, and no wand? The Burrow was a possibility, but I didn't want to endanger them, and Grimmauld Place was empty save for Kreature. The only downside was that Snape knew where it was, and he could take me from both places immediately, should he have to. I really didn't want to deal with the snarky potions master anyway.

I leaned my head against the arm chair and stared into the fire Dimpy had set for me. I soaked in it's warmth. Dumbledore... could be very manipulative, not unlike Voldemort.

He had me raised in a "Muggle" home so I wouldn't grow up hating them. They were good people too. He made sure I didn't end up in an orphanage, that I wouldn't be in the same boat as Voldemort when it came to growing up. He made sure it was Rose because she was a Squib, and like Mrs. Figg with Harry, she kept an eye on me and reported anything unusual to Dumbledore.

When I came to Hogwarts, did he tell the Sorting Hat to put me in with Gryffindor, so I would end up with Harry? In the hopes that I would befriend him, and help him along his way with Voldemort? But how could he have known? How could he have known Harry would end up in Gryffindor, and that Voldemort would seek the Philosipher's Stone? How could he have possibly known we would become friends, unless he was the one to initiate it all? He'd been the one to hire Quirrell, did he know that Voldemort had become a part of him? Had he hired him specifically for that reason?

I doubt I would ever know the lengths Dumbledore had gone- to either keep Hogwarts safe or to make sure I didn't harm Harry. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he had initiated it simply so I did become Harry's friend- therefore there was no chance of me wanting to see him dead.

I closed my eyes and yawned. Sleep was teasing at my eyes. I should get to bed. I stood and slowly made my way to the door, opening it only to find Voldemort on approach. He raised an invisible brow, his eyes glittering due to the fire.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked softly. I nodded.

"I'm going to bed," I informed him, stifling a yawn at the end. A smirk curled at his lips. I didn't know whether to hate him or be annoyed, or both.

"Pleasant dreams, Hermione." I gave a noncommittal response before heading back to bed. I fell onto my bed and fell asleep on the spot.

:S:

"Get up," Severus Snape demanded of me. I groaned and turned away from him, much to tired to deal with his constantly bad mood and thick sarcasm. But Snape was not in the mood to deal with me at all, and eventually he won out. Of course he did. With a flick of his wand he vanished the sheets. I gasped at the cold air touching my skin, leaving me shivering.

"What?" I asked as I sat up. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. I was still very tired, and at the present moment I couldn't think of any reason good enough to wake me up so early.

"You get one hour to see your parents, do you want to waste it by just sitting there?" Snape snarled as he left the room. Wide awake, I had to admit, I didn't. I dressed as quickly as I could before following Snape out the door. He led me to the dungeons and where my parents were located. Noticeably, there was no one else around, but I could still hear the screams of men and women being tortured, or sobbing.

"One hour," Snape repeated. He flicked his wand and a timer appeared, floating golden in the air, counting down. I glanced back at my parents. They were dirty, their clothes reduced to rags, and there cheeks were stained with tears. I grasped the bars in my hands. I felt so helpless. If I had my wand, I could have freed them. But I knew better. Voldemort wouldn't let them go that easily.

"Oh Hermione," Rose said, standing up. "We're so worried about you." My first thought was that they were worried Voldemort had me harmed, but then I realized she said 'we're' and not 'were.'

"What do you mean?" I asked carefully. Rose looked back to Hugo, who had stood up and pressed himself against the bars. He wasn't a large man, but his arm couldn't go through the bars. Only his wrist. Realizing what he was going to do, I leaned forward and pressed my cheek against the dirty bars, leaning into my Dad's comforting touch. He was smiling, grimly, but he was still smiling.

"We- When you..." Rose couldn't bring herself to finish. She just stared at me with those big eyes of her, full of disappointment and sorrow. I knew what she was getting at, and it made me angry. I stepped back.

"You think I'm turning into him, don't you." I said. "Voldemort." Rose shuddered, but not because of the name. Because it was the truth.

"You killed someone, Mione," Hugo said. He was sad too. Very sad, I could tell. It broke his heart, watching me do that. I'd broken him.

"For you!" I yelled, desperate. I hated it, their condemnation, their disappointment. "I killed him for you! I killed him so Voldemort wouldn't hurt you! I tore my soul so you wouldn't die!"

"We're not worth your soul, Hermione," Rose said softly. She wasn't going to yell back, because she knew it wouldn't help matters. It wasn't like Mum to do that. If you yelled at her, she yelled back. I had done it. I had truly broken my own parents. "We never were."

"So that's it then? You've given up on me?" I demanded. "You won't even give me a chance to prove you wrong?"

"We know you, sweetheart." Hugo replied. "You won't let harm come to us, even if it means... even if it means dealing with that monster."

"He's going to push you, Hermione," Rose said, her voice stronger now. "Push you into doing more despicable deeds. You've already killed for us, what more can you possibly do?"

"There are worse things than death," I said. "Far worse."

"And you would subject us to them?" Rose asked. "Put us through that, so you won't have to grieve our lives? He won't kill us, but that doesn't mean we'll be totally safe from his followers."

"So you want to die?" I asked, screaming. "You want to end up as another one of his victims?"

"I would have rather ended up dead," Hugo said, as Rose was very silent, "then have watched my baby girl kill someone in front of me." I just stared at them. Not once did they meet my gaze. Guilt wormed its way through my system, I ached from it. I felt so bad, so sorry, for killing Rowle. I felt so bad for disappointing Rose and Hugo. It wasn't like anything else I've ever felt. Tears stung in my eyes but I refused to let them fall.

My hour wasn't nearly up, but I left anyway. I pushed past Wormtail and Snape before heading back to my bedroom. On my way there I crossed paths with Narcissa and a few unrecognizable Death Eaters, but I held my head high and didn't give them a reason to tease me. When I entered my bedroom, I collapsed on my bed and hugged a pillow close, soaking it with the tears I finally allowed to fall.

That was it. They'd written me off. They truly believed I would become like Voldemort in the long run. Because, they were right. I would never allow them to fall victim to Voldemort, or his followers, if I could help it.

There was a soft, tentative knock on my door. "Go away," I yelled. I did not wish to be disturbed at the present moment. I was grieving. My parents, my soul, Rowle. I wished I had never killed him. My life would have been better, I think. But either way, I'd be grieving. My parents or Rowle. I'd rather grieve the person I didn't know, even if it meant my parents hated me.

"Granger," Draco began, his voice muffled behind the door. "I mean Hermione- look, I'm not accustomed to acting like a house elf, so could you just open the damn door?" I wiped my eyes, even if it wouldn't remove the evidence, necessarily, and did as he asked. Curiosity won me over. I wanted to know what he wanted. Or what made him act like a 'damn house elf.' In his hands were two steaming mugs of Honeyduke's Hot Chocolate. It was possibly the best Hot Chocolate in the world.

"How did you get it?" I asked as he handed me one. He made his way into my room, without invitation, and lounged on the nearby armchair. I took a small sip so that it wouldn't burn my tongue. The warmth and bittersweet taste, the creaminess of it, it instantly made me feel better. I sat on my bed.

"I had a house elf of mine get it for me." I blinked.

"You stole it?" I asked, aghast. Draco scoffed.

"Don't act so holier than thou, Gran- Hermione. We both know it's not true." I narrowed my eyes. He took a sip from his own mug, then shook his head. "I gave her some gold to give to the shopkeeper. I bought the mugs as well. If I send Dolly back with the mugs, the shopkeeper will refill them for five sickles."

"Oh," I replied. It was a good deal. "Well, thank you, Draco." He waved it off.

"To tell the truth it wasn't even _my_ idea," I scoffed. Of course it wasn't. When has Draco Malfoy ever done anything nice for me? "It was my mothers. She thought you could use a bit of cheering up." Now that took me by surprise. Narcissa? Even when I had been a part of the reason Lucius was in Azkaban?

"Did she?" I asked. She must have noticed I was upset when I had been walking past. I pursed my lips and stared at the steaming mug. She was right, of course. I needed it. "Tell her... tell her I said thank you."

Draco gave a nod. Things were silent for a moment; we both drank from the mugs, drowned in our thoughts. Eventually, though, the quiet was lifted. Not by me, but by him.

"I could have done it too, you know." I gave him a questioning glance. I know he wasn't talking about the hot chocolate. I didn't doubt he could have thought about it, but actually doing something nice for once? I doubted it.

"Done what?" I asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Killed Rowle, of course. It would have been easy. I've always hated the man. It's good that you got rid of him." I frowned, utterly confused by his behavior. Before, when I had killed Rowle, he had looked absolutely terrified. He hadn't looked smug or pleased or whatever, but terrified. And now he's saying he could have done it. I scoffed.

"Right, of course you could have. Wouldn't have even given it a second thought, would you, had you been in my shoes?" Now Draco looked smug.

"Of course not. He's always been an irritating, useless fellow. I don't know why the Dark Lord even kept him around." _He's not the only one,_ I thought as I narrowed my eyes. I strongly resisted the urge to dump the hot chocolate all over him. It would have been very satisfactory, but not very beneficial, as Draco had a wand and I did not.

"That's not a good thing, Draco. You'd tear your soul in half just so you could get rid of someone who annoyed you?" I demanded. "And here I thought you had some semblance of morals and decency. Get out of my room." Draco stood, but he did not leave. His eyes narrowed.

"It'd been easy for you to make that decision," he said.

"No, it hadn't, and my parent's lives had been on the line. I didn't want to kill him Draco, but I had no choice!"

"That's what you think!" He shouted. "It looked pretty damn clear where I was standing! The Dark Lord gave you a choice- that filthy Squib and Muggle you call your parents, or Rowle! You _chose _your parents!"

"That was hardly a choice at all! I couldn't let them die!"

"But it was still your choice, Granger," Draco said. He didn't bother to correct himself this time. He was a lot calmer now, his voice softer. "If it'd been me, I would have done the same. So don't condemn yourself for it, and don't listen to them. They should be thankful they're alive."

Draco left the room, leaving me to stand there, alone and confused. Had he just- comforted me? I stood there, mouth agape, staring at where he had just been. I would never understand the Malfoys. Ever.

:S:

Voldemort insisted he spend time with me. Usually we never talked, there was this brick wall by the name of Harry Potter between us, not to mention the grout of beliefs and allegiances that put it all together. Still, Voldemort insisted upon it. It was rather strange, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me why. Because I was his daughter? Probably. Did I desire to spend any time with him? No. Of course not. I hated him, for everything he stood for and what he made me do.

"Rowle destroyed your wand, correct?" Voldemort asked. We were sitting in the library. I was reading some wizard fairytale that was clearly crafted by a pureblood supremacist. (Every other word was 'Mudblood,' 'Muggle-lover,' 'Filth' or a combination of all three.) It was a bit fascinating to read a fairy tale from a wizard's perspective, but at the same time, annoying at how ignorant the author was. Voldemort himself was pouring over a few select titles. I admit I was curious, obviously he found whatever he was reading fascinating, as he was jotting down notes faster than he read, but whatever books he was reading were obviously dark.

"Yes," I admitted. I missed my wand but because I was not yet seventeen and I still had the Trace on me, there was little I could do with it. I needed it for school, however, and I was going to buy one at Diagon Alley whenever I got my list of school supplies.

"I believe it's time to fix that. I have Rowle's wand, if you so wish to use it."

"No," I said immediately. Who knew what kinds of horrors he had committed with that thing? If I had a choice of Rowle's wand or no wand, I wouldn't have a wand at all.

Voldemort looked up from his desk, meshing his fingers together. His eyes were narrowed for a moment, but then he nodded in understanding.

"Very well. You may go to Diagon Alley today. Ah, before I forget..." He rummaged through the drawers (which was a bit hard to watch, as it's hard to imagine Lord Voldemort rummaging through anything) in search of something. He held it out for me to take. It was a key. A Gringotts vault key. My eyebrows rose. "Take however much you need, the vault is yours. And bring Draco Malfoy with you. He will know the way back."

"All... Alright. Thank you." Voldemort did nothing in reply. I left the room in search of Draco. I didn't want to see him since our argument, but I did desire another wand. If I had to put up with Draco to get it, I would.

I looked everywhere. His bedroom, the gardens, the Malfoy library, and he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I found him in the kitchen, drinking a butterbeer and eating some vol-u-vaunts. A special treat from the house elves, I supposed, either that or he specifically asked for some. He simply rose a brow at my appearance. I generally didn't like the kitchen because of the house elves, and recalling my entire S. P. E.W episode, Draco hadn't forgotten it.

"Found me, have you?" Draco asked upon swallowing a vol-u-vaunts.

"Yes. Rowle broke my wand, and I'm in need of a new one. Will you come with me to Diagon Alley?"

"The Dark Lord wants me to come with you, doesn't he." Draco said. I nodded. "Fine, come on then. I want to get back before three, Blaise is coming over for some Quidditch practice."

:S:

We apparated just outside the entrance to Diagon Alley. Together we made our way to Gringotts so I could purchase my wand. And maybe visit Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. As soon as the thought crossed my mind I pushed it aside. I doubted Draco would want to go in there, and the Weasleys... I wondered if they had heard of my disappearance?

The key clutched tightly in my hand, I approached one of the Goblins at the counter. "I'd like to make a withdrawal," I stated clearly, so he might hear. The Goblin looked down on me and raised a thick, burly brow.

"And do you have a key?" He asked. I disliked Goblins. They made me uncomfortable. They hated wizards and witches equally and had no particular care for wizarding affairs. Of course I couldn't discriminate them for it, but they still made me uncomfortable.

"Yes," I said, placing it on the counter. The Goblin examined it closely and nodded, pushing it back to me. I took it in hand and he gestured to another Goblin.

"Griphook will show you the way," he said. And that was that. I've never liked the trams they used to get to the vaults, but it couldn't be helped. When we finally got there I was very dizzy and about to rich. I gave Griphook the key and he placed it in the door. It opened up for me, and what I saw was utterly amazing.

There were piles and piles, rather large piles at that, of galleons, sickles and knutts. Not only was there what seemed to be hundreds of thousands of gold, silver, and bronze coins, but there were goblets and plates and pictures of men and women, moving within their frames, that I had never seen before.

"Impressive," Draco said, entering it. He picked up a goblet and examined it closely. His brow furrowed. I went and picked up a twenty galleons- far more than a wand needed, but, I wasn't about to pass up what little chance of freedom I had. If I was in Diagon Alley, I might as well enjoy it.

Draco cocked his head to the side. "Hang on, I've seen this crest before." I tied my pouch and pocketed it. I glanced over his shoulder. It was familiar to me as well. It was laden with silver and platinum, a scroll crossing a wand. There were three jewels around it- a ruby, at the top, an emerald, to the right, and a sapphire, to the left. "It means knowledge and power."

"But, who does it belong to?" I asked. I could have sworn seeing this somewhere, but I just can't recall where. It wouldn't be from any Hogwarts books, that I was sure of. I knew that place by heart.

"You don't know?" Griphook asked, or more like snarled, out. "This vaults belongs to the Mondego family. They haven't entered it in some sixteen years."

"Sixteen years?" I asked. "Then, this vault belong to my mother. But who is she?"

"I suppose you'll have to ask him when we get back," Draco said. I nodded. I retrieved the key from Griphook and left. Somehow, I felt that the secrets were right there for the taking. But Draco and I had a time limit of a sort, and I couldn't stay in there forever.

Diagon Alley looked all but abandoned. There weren't many stragglers, hardly anyone stayed for a bit of chit chat. I didn't see any one I recognized. Ollivanders appeared all but empty. A few straggling boxes lied on the floor. The entry bell dinged as I entered. Draco was waiting outside.

Ollivander looked much mousier than I remembered. He was hunched over a little, his hair wild and his skin had darkened around his eyes from lack of sleep. It seemed like everyone was living in a little hell here of late.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Vine wood, dragon heart string core, eleven inches, flexible. Particularly suited for charms. How might I help you?"

I smiled down at the man. "Well you see Mr. Ollivander, my wand broke a few months back, and I'm in need of a new one."

"Of course of course..." Ollivander went back amongst his shelves and pulled out several boxes for me. Some were more destructive than the others. Finally, one suited me perfectly. It wasn't like my first wand. With my first wand I felt the comfort of knowledge and the smell of parchment and ink. It was entirely different from that occasion. I felt... uplifted. Not content, but entirely happy. Renewed. It was like everything would be alright soon enough, if I just held on a little longer.

"Ah..." Ollivanger said, taking the wand. "Yew, which is often associated with death and resurrection... Unicorn hair, nine inches. This wand will be good for wards of protection. Very nice, and very different from your original wand."

"That isn't a bad thing, is it?" Ollivander shook his head.

"It is a sign that your magic and your personality is changing, Miss Granger, but change is not necessarily a bad thing." I thanked him and payed the appropriate amount of gold before bidding him good day.

Draco was not outside waiting for me. I frowned. I couldn't have been in there for more than thirty minutes. We had only gone through- I counted it in my head- twenty wands. Or more. Probably more. It did feel like an awfully long time for me to find another wand.

So, question was, where did Draco go? Knockturn Alley? I pushed the thought aside. Surely he wasn't that stupid? And I was not about to go down there after him if he was. I frowned. My first impulse was to go to the book store and wait, but... well, I hadn't seen the Weasleys in what seemed like forever. And I did want them to know I was okay. Fred and George could pass it along, couldn't they?

I approached the shop and grinned as I entered. Everything was clustered and busy and buzzing. People were buying the Weasley products like mad. Having been at the end of their jokes for a long time, I couldn't appreciate someone using them, but the kind of magic they had to do to create them, and for them to work? Simply amazing. Including that bit of swamp that was still in the corridors at Hogwarts.

I looked around thoughtfully, trying to figure out where I would spot the twins, when I heard a shout over head. I looked up and grinned.

"Hermione!"

"Fred! George!" I called out to them. They apparated and appeared right next to me, each grabbing an arm and leading me up the winding staircase.

"We've been ever so worried about you, you know," Fred said. I glanced at him, then at George.

"You gave us a right scare, you have, Hermione. Disappearing like that, nowhere to be found, your things gone and your parents missing." I blushed and looked down at my feet, embarrassed for having scared them. Them and the entire Weasley family, most likely. And Harry, if he was at the Burrow, like usual.

"So tell us," they said together and pushed me into their office, "Where've you been?" I opened my mouth wide and realized that this had probably not been the best idea. What if Voldemort found out? He would be furious with me and would torture my parents! But I couldn't let my friends worry about me, I just couldn't! But if Voldemort found out... But how would he? I wasn't underestimating the man, but really, he couldn't have a spy between the two Weasleys. Still, I didn't want to risk it.

"Is Harry at the Burrow?" I asked them suddenly. They shared a glance and raised a brow.

"Don't-"

"Change the-"

"Subject, Hermione."

"You're not off the hook."

"No, I'm serious, Fred, George." They scoffed, folding there arms across their chests.

"When aren't you." I glared at the two of them, hands on my hips. They could be so frustrating! Maybe I would have appreciated their work a bit more if they hadn't driven me crazy half the time and disrespected the rules so much.

"Do you want to know where I've been or not?" I asked. They nodded in the affirmative.

"Ask Harry. If he knows I'm missing, he knows where I am. And if he hasn't told you yet... well, I can only imagine it's because we agreed not to tell Ron." I told them sadly. "Don't ask me why, I can't tell you. But Harry knows. He has to know."

"Are you going back, then?" Fred asked. I nodded sadly.

"I have to." I pursed my lips, wanting to say more, but then a grin bloomed across my face as an idea formed. It was brilliant. I retrieved my bag of gold and held it out in front of them. The twins glanced at each other in question, because the grin on my face couldn't be normal. "Give me as much of your best products for making mischief. My current place of residence is in need of a bit of cheering up."

* * *

**So, changes in this chapter:**

**Hermione has a new wand.**

**The 'rents naturally don't approve of her saving their life. **

**Something's up with Narcissa and Draco.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

**_Thanks so much for your reviews and input, guys! I appreciate it!_**

* * *

I bid goodbye to the twins with a bag full of goodies to play pranks with. Normally I wouldn't condone this sort of thing, however, I'm living with a house full of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. Very rarely is there ever a happy occasion or laughter, and I'll need something to cheer me up. Hopefully I can get away with them, I'll just have to be careful.

I looked around for Draco, but I couldn't find him anywhere. It shouldn't be too hard considering that there weren't many people around. I checked a few stores (Flourish and Blotts, Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Magical Menagerie to name a few) before I finally got fed up. I was about to march down to Knockturn Alley to give Draco a piece of my mind when, lo and behold, he showed up with two hot fudge sundaes from Florean's. I was shocked. I did expect him to be down Knockturn Alley, but maybe it was just me thinking the worst in him. Or maybe he had been down there and didn't want me to suspect him.

I took mine with thanks and we sat outside to eat them. It was a really gray day. Most of the shops were still running, but everyone was living in fear. A few years ago everyone was happy and chatty, the streets were filled with customers. Now, hardly anyone even left their own homes. It was such a sad thing.

"What did you get from the Weasel twins?" Draco asked, nodding to the bag.. I placed it in front of him so he could have a look. His eyes widened in surprise .

"That's a lot of items. Did you buy it with the rest of the gold?" I shook my head.

"They were nice enough to give me a discount," I explained. "I still have half the bag of gold left. I think they just wanted me to make them miserable."

Draco's eyes narrowed automatically. "Please don't tell me you told them." It came out as a groan but I swear I heard a hint of concern. I brushed it off. Draco would never be concerned for the Weasleys. And normally, he wouldn't be having this conversation with me over two ridiculously good hot fudge sundaes. But... things change. So, did he?

"Of course not," I replied. "I'm not stupid Draco." I hid the fact that Harry knows, and Dumbledore, and they would be able to tell them. Whether they would I had no idea. But I wanted the Weasleys to know, Of course, knowing would make them worry more. I shook the thought from my head and attempted to shake the guilt from my heart as well. Whats done is done. I couldn't do anything about it.

"Let's not talk about it," I asked quietly. "I really don't want to."

Draco nodded in understanding. "Are you looking forward to the new school year? Wait, never mind. I forgot who I was talking to." He smirked and I playfully scrunched my nose in distaste before I smiled.

"Of course I am. I'm especially looking forward to our N.E.W.T classes. You'll be taking them?" Draco nodded.

"I don't see why I should. I can't stand Hogwarts half the time with Dumbledore running it-" I quirked a brow, but he ignored me- "he has the most ridiculous ideas for Valentines day." I highly doubted thats what he wanted to say originally, but I was glad he refrained.

"They are a bit much," I admitted. "But he just loves the day. And in dark times like these, the small things matter tremendously." Draco snorted.

"I could do without the pink tinged walls." He said. Changing the subject, "Did you know that he's planning another Yule ball? Dumbledore?" I shook my head. I did not. "Snape told me," he continued. "I think its a bit odd, considering that we haven't had one since that Hufflepuff died."

"Cedric," I informed him, "and yes, we haven't. Cho Chang will be heartbroken. She's been a bit crushed since he died."

"She's weak," Draco said. "It was years ago."

"And I suppose you could get over the death of a loved one so quickly?" I asked. Draco didn't reply. I smiled smugly.

"I suppose you'll be going with Weasel, aren't you." Draco said suddenly. "To the Yule Ball." He said it so casually I was surprised he even brought it up. I scooped the last bit of my ice cream. I blushed and, was about to reply when there was a flash. I blinked and turned to see who Draco was glowering at.

It was Rita Skeeter. With a camera, and a Quick Quotes Quill. (Now hush Rita, I'm telling it how it happened. Get over it.) I glared at her as well.

"You aren't planning on using that photograph, are you?" I asked her. She smiled that toothy smile and I hated her even more. It was a stupid question to ask. Tongues would be wagging, seeing Muggleborn Granger and Pureblood Draco Malfoy together over ice cream. Not to mention me blushing. She had captured the right moment.

"But of course! Unless, then, you don't want me to?" She asked sweetly. I glowered . I knew what she wanted. Since she wrote that bit from Harry (Which I had asked her to do) she'd been writing as much as she could. That was the agreement. She wrote that, she could write again. But I still held her status as an unregistered Animagus over her head because she'd be jailed for it. Maybe not in Azkaban, but she'd be ruined.

Now, she wanted me to give that up. And frankly, being seen with Draco Malfoy wasn't enough to ruin my reputation. She didn't have anything.

"If you're trying to blackmail me Rita it's not going to work," I told her calmly. "You and I know that from the two of us, you have a lot more at stake. Publish it in the Prophet. Write the most scathing and rumor dripped article you can. It's not enough to make front page, or even page three. I doubt much will come of it."

"I will teach you to mess with me little girl," Rita snarled before stomping off. Draco gave me a stare.

"What?"

"Are you blackmailing her?" His tone suggested he was highly astonished, and almost proud. I shrugged, hiding a smile.

"What of it?" Draco's smirk turned into a small sort of smile.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Hermione."

:S:

At the entrance of Diagon Alley, Draco called for Fin, a house elf, and he took us back to Malfoy Manor before being dismissed. Draco and I migrated our way to the gardens. Blaise had arrived, with Pansy, and he was ready to play Quidditch. Draco made his way to the broom cupboard and grabbed his own before flying up into the air. The two boys started on their own and Pansy found herself over by my side.

"Are you a fan of Quidditch?" She asked. I shook my head.

"Not particularly. I know the rules though." Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Let me guess, you read it in a book." I snorted. Where else would I learn it? With Harry and Ron, they butted in constantly trying to explain it, and never made anything clear. I needed the clear, precise rules in the book, otherwise I would never understand it. The book had plenty of Quidditch facts as well, which, believe it or not, I found interesting.

"Of course I did," I said.

"I'm not a fan of it myself. I watch it mainly to cheer Draco on." I sort of gathered that, the way she was mooning him. I tilted my head to the side, watching him play. He was good. Maybe not as good as Harry, but he was the only real competition Harry had. He was attractive too, in an aristocratic sort of way. Blond hair, striking gray eyes, and a charming enough smile, when he wanted it to be.

His personality though was in need of wanting. He could be very cruel and negative at the best of times, smug and prideful, always thinking he was better than everyone else. Something that he had gotten from his father, no doubt. He did buy me that ice cream, but one good deed did not make up for a life full of wickedness. Could he change? Probably. Would he? I doubted it.

So, in reality, I couldn't understand why Pansy liked him so much. If it was for his money and his name, then that was just disgusting. Why love a person if not for themselves? But I didn't know Pansy, so I didn't really have the ability to judge. It was clear to everyone though she was smitten with him. I've known that since our first year at Hogwarts.

"I saw you two walk to the gardens," Pansy said, changing the subject. "Are you two... together?"

"Draco and I barely get along at the best of times," I told her honestly. "We aren't." Pansy became relaxed and went back to cheering Draco on. I hadn't kept score, I didn't know who was winning. My thoughts drifted back to the Weasley's, to Harry, and to Ron.

Draco had meant if I was going with Ron to the Yule ball, and the truth was, I didn't think I would be. Harry would be sure to tell the truth, and what would Ron do then? Overreact, as always. He'd brand me a traitor and a Slytherin, that's all it would take. So, truthfully, I doubted I would be going to the Yule ball at all.

To be honest though, if Ron had asked, I wouldn't had gone anyway. During our fourth year I had hoped he would ask, but he never did. My feelings for him faded a bit since then. He was like a brother now, and going with him would be a bit odd. It was the same with Harry, but I was pretty confident he and Ginny would get together. Sometime, if he wasn't blind.

"For the next Yule Ball," I said to Pansy, "Will you and Draco be going together?"

"Oh I hope so," Pansy admitted. Surprisingly, not gushing, like Lavender or Parvati. She just seemed, well, eager. "Last time we went he hardly danced with me. I want that to change." I frowned, and looked up at Draco. Pansy wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but she wasn't exactly ugly either. Besides, it wasn't like I was the prettiest one of the bunch.

"How long have you been interested in him?"

"Since our first year. He's perfect. He's got a good family name, lots of money, and he's charming to boot." I snorted in disbelief, but I didn't say anything.

"Well, what about you?" Pansy demanded. Her voice softened. "Are you interested in anyone? Erm, how about that Weasley fellow?" I knew she was making an effort to be polite, something I really did appreciate. It didn't matter what side they wanted me on, but Ron was my friend and so was Harry. I wouldn't tolerate anyone insulting them.

"Why does everyone assume I'm going to end up with Ronald Weasley?" I asked with a laugh. "Me and Ron- there's nothing. I used to like him," I admitted to her, which was probably the only thing I would ever admit to her, as it didn't really effect me much anymore, "But there's nothing between us now. At least not like that."

"So, who then? Don't tell me Neville." I threw my hands up in the air.

"Good God no. Neville's sweet, but no. And no, Harry isn't an option either. He's like a brother to me."

Pansy frowned. Blaise and Malfoy came back to the earth, brooms over their shoulders and brows quirked.

"And what are you fine ladies discussing?" Blaise asked, sending us both a winning smile. I couldn't help but smile back. Draco glared at Blaise, but I didn't see why. He wasn't flirting with us, not really. Pansy pushed him on the shoulder playfully.

"Girl talk," Pansy said. "But if you must know Hermione's love life."

"You have a love life, Hermione?" Blaise asked in mock surprise.

"Watch it Zabini," I said with an equally mocking glare. "Or I just might hex you."

"Oh I shan't dare insult your loveliness, my dear lady." He bowed and I laughed. Draco still continued to glare at Blaise but he ignored him.

"So," Draco asked, "What's so interesting about her love life anyway?" He was pretending not to be interested. What was up with him? Had he suddenly decided to know everything there was to know about me, or something?

"Nothing," I interrupted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to the library. It's been lovely chatting with you."

Draco snorted and none of them followed me. Good on my word, I went to the library, but not before putting up my prank supplies, and, shock upon shock, Voldemort was there. Still. Writing furiously, grumbling beneath his breath in Parseltongue. It was almost funny. In front of others, he was always so very calm and composed. He never grumbled beneath his breath, never lost his cool. When he was especially angry, he was even colder. I wished I could understand him. If it wasn't for Dumbledore, I could.

It was clear though that he was very passionate about his work. The same went for his ideals and beliefs. The only people I could compare him to in their firmness and zealotry would be Harry and Bellatrix. Even the Malfoys weren't that passionate. They jumped ship as soon as they could when Voldemort fell for the first time.

"Vol-" I stopped. I couldn't call him Voldemort. I have been carefully avoiding calling him anything other than sir when I could. But if I outright called him Voldemort, well, I wasn't sure what he would do. And he had never addressed it, so... "Father." First time I ever called him that, and it left a sour taste on my tongue. Merlin I hated him.

"_Se'het ne'rra?" _I frowned and placed my hands on my hips. Parseltongue. Of course. I wish I knew what he was saying. What had Dumbledore done to me? Could I break it?

"I don't understand you. English, please?" Voldemort waved it aside.

"Dumbledore must have used the Dark Arts as a foundation for the spell he used to suppress certain parts of your magic. If I find that spell, I may be able to counter it."

"You can do that?" I asked. Voldemort sent me a glare but, as flippantly as he had waved my remark aside, I did the same. "I meant being able to suppress magic."

"Of course. In the days when the Magical and Muggle world were one, the so called Ministry used to be able to remove magic from a person completely as a punishment. Some researchers believe it was the Veil, but the true way was lost many years ago."

The way he said it, it instantly made me believe he knew more about it than he was letting on. I didn't ask though, I really didn't want to know. I perused the shelves, looking for something particularly interesting. I just love the smell of books and the feel of everlasting knowledge around me. It was comforting. And it outweighed Voldemort's presence, believe it or not.

"Sounds like a horrible way to live," I commented instead. "Not living like a Muggle, that's manageable. But having something, and then having it ripped from you? I almost feel bad for them."

Voldemort shut his book and stood from behind his desk. "Draco tells me you were mediocre when it came to Defense. Something I'm sure is a result of Dumbledore's tampering. Come, let us duel."

"You're joking." I said, following him. "You and I both know that I'm no good at it," I rubbed the scar left from Dolohov's curse. Voldemort had healed it that day, very quickly, at the Ministry, but it ached due to the dark residue. That would remain forever.

"Practice, girl, makes perfect." I scowled.

"I know that," I told him. "But I have practiced it. The only spell I'm particularly good at is the Patronus Charm."

"That is a N.E.W.T level spell, who taught it to you?"

"Actually, Professor Lupin taught it to Harry, and Harry taught it to us. He sort of stood in as a Professor for some of the sixth years since Umbridge was an evil toad."

"An evil toad." Voldemort stated.

"She is," I defended. "She is a horrid woman who I hope is having nightmares about centaurs right now. She didn't believe us when we said you were back. Punished us for it. Harry got the worst of it, which I'm sure you're happy about," I said accusingly. He only smirked. "But she had me in detention a few times for speaking out in class. She made me write 'I will not interrupt class' a few times until it sunk in."

"Sunk in?" Voldemort questioned. He was leading me to the dueling room. I was a bit anxious. No one survived a duel with Voldemort, save for Dumbledore and Harry, but I highly doubted he was going to kill me. Still, I knew I would not make it without a few scars by the end of it. I showed him my wand hand. He took it in his own bony hand, and a brief maelstrom of anger danced around us with his magic. As soon as it was there, it was gone as he brought his anger under control. I felt afraid. Very afraid. I never forgot he was a mass murdering monster, but it made it all the more real. I glanced down at my hand. In the lighting, the words were illuminated in the same neat penmanship that was my own.

"It was the quill," I said, careful so I didn't show my fear. I took a deep breath. "She used our blood as ink. If it wasn't for the fact that it hurt so much, it might have been funny." I took my hand back, and Voldemort glowered.

"She will pay for what she has done, not to worry." I shook my head. If it were anyone else we were discussing, I might have been upset. As it were, the thought of her getting what she deserved almost made me gleeful. But then I remembered that, despite all her faults, and how much I hated her, she didn't deserve such treatment. No one did. Except, maybe, Voldemort.

"I already have," I said instead. "Made her pay, that is. On our way to the Ministry that day, I made her think that Dumbledore had some secret weapon in the Forbidden Forest. She being the hateful bigot that she was, I knew if we came across the centaurs, she'd demand that they obey her. They didn't like that idea, so they hauled her off. Unfortunately, after the battle, Dumbledore had rescued her. She's very scared of centuars and horses now, at least. It's something."

"I see. You did well, but you would have done just as well killing her."

I threw my hands up in the air. "I wouldn't have considered the option even if it had been open to me. Besides, Harry was with me the entire time. Even he wouldn't want her dead."

Voldemort changed the topic. "What is your patronus?" He asked.

"_Expecto Patronum," _I whispered, thinking on the day I received my Hogwarts letter, or even better, when Professor McGonnagal had come to my doorstep informing me that it wasn't a dream. It was the happiest day of my life. A silvery otter whispered around me, and then Voldemort, swimming in the air. I grinned, watching it. It never failed to make me happy.

"Speaking of which," I said as my otter disappeared. "Why hasn't the Ministry come pounding at the doorstep? I've used two Unforgivables and now this. Surely even the Trace is in use here."

"Do you truly wish to know?" Voldemort asked. The dueling room's doors opened for us. With a flick of his wand, the room expanded. It was now the size of a Quidditch Arena. Magic will never cease to amaze me.

"I wouldn't have asked," I replied.

"I imperioed the head of the Improper Use of Magic office. They ignore all magical activity here, on my orders."

"That's terrible." I said. Voldemort snorted.

"Would you rather be expelled from Hogwarts and have your wand snapped?" He asked. I shook my head immediately. That was a nightmarish thought. Being expelled from Hogwarts, never completing my classes. The mere idea made me sick.

"As I thought. As I am aware, all of your Defense teachers were horrible or died at the end of the year." Voldemort said, circling around me. I kept my stance.

"As I understand it, Quirrel was your fault." Voldemort's lips quirked.

"Quirrel would have been a terrible teacher no matter the possession. As I was saying, none, save for Professor Snape, were entirely suitable for the position. Thus you learned nothing your entire years at Hogwarts. I assume you have read your textbooks thoroughly?"

I gave him a look and he chuckled. "As I expected. I must assess your skills. You do know the dueling art, don't you?"

"Face your opponent, wands at the ready, bow, then turn, and take ten steps forward." I recited. "But I don't trust you enough to count to the first two," I told him. Voldemort smirked but said not a word. He traveled to the middle of the room and I followed him. I did as he did, readied my wand, bowed to him if only slightly. His manner was more mocking than serious any way. Then he turned around, and took ten steps forward.

I did the same but I took ten steps backward instead. I didn't trust him enough. At all, actually, and I thoroughly expected him to turn and shoot a spell at me after the first step. To his credit, he didn't.

"_Apisco!" _He cried out, a warning shot. I darted to the side, as it was far too late for the electric blue curse to be rebounded. He sent another spell my way, this time a dull, shivering gray, and I could not counter it any more than I could the first. I knew the counter spell, but by the time the blasted thing crossed my mind it was too late.

Voldemort gave me no room to attack him. It was nothing but dodging and reflecting on my part, and it would eventually take it's toll on my body. For now, I had to keep up. If I didn't... well, I didn't know what would happen. I twirled, dodging one spell as I sent the counter curse it's way, reflecting it. All of the spells he had cast were dark, and so far, I had managed to dodge all of them. Getting out of the duel unscathed, however, that would be impossible. This was Voldemort, after all, and even Dumbledore had difficulties fighting him.

It was then Voldemort flicked his wand and sent a pink spell, yes pink, electric, hot, dangerous, spell my way. The Nefarious Curse. It was full of bad magic, dark in it's origin. It wasn't covered in any of the school spell books because it was so evil. It was similar to the Unforgivables, but it's effect, and the spell itself, wasn't that well known. You had to want their hurt, desire your opponent's pain over anyone else.

The counter curse, _"Beneius!", _ is only effective when you have good thoughts within your mind and your spirit, and it was hard to do so when dueling against one so hated. I hated Voldemort. For everything he had ever done to me. For making me kill Rowle, for using Rose and Hugo against me, for killing Harry's parents and the blasted war I was forced to be in. I hated him. And because of my hatred, the counter curse would not work. But when I thought of Harry, and Ron and the Weasley's, my heart lightened and it was much easier.

The spells, both pink and violet in their own right, mingle and redirected, marring the wall where they hit. I could breath easy knowing I wasn't about to die. The Nefarious Curse boiled your insides with such an intensity you begged for death.

A few minutes later and I had enough bumps, bruises and cuts to last me a life time. He fired more spells while I did my best to retaliate. Some were redirected to the wall, which led to more holes in the walls that the house elves would surely have to fix later, and some struck me. None of my injuries were, thankfully, life threatening.

He did send one particular spell that made an ache in my bones. The _Ossa Detrimentum_. It was meant to destroy my bones completely but Voldemort didn't want to have me bedridden for the next five weeks as my bones healed. He diluted its potency, almost. Like with all Dark Art spells, it was the matter of intent and how much you desired what it was you were trying to achieve.

It felt like our duel had been lasting for hours, and the lingering magic in the room made the air stifling. It was like a thick, humid fog sticking to my skin, and merged with such intense heat it was near unbearable. It was hard to breath, sometimes, and I was wearing down. Voldemort, it appeared, was not affected by it at all. In fact, it appeared that he was actually used to it. But of course he would be. He's been in far more intense battles than this one. For Merlin's sake, he didn't even give me an opportunity to attack him.

I gained more and more injuries as I lost my focus and energy. At that point, I was convinced Voldemort was trying to kill me without casting the _Avada._ His curses were so incredibly dark, so powerful I had difficulty countering them. Most of the time I couldn't. He never cast an unforgivable on me however, so I suppose I should be thankful. I could tell he was growing frustrated. I was failing him, I could feel his disappointment. I didn't care.

"Stop thinking, Hermione!" He finally cried in frustration. He paced quickly as I caught my breath, wondering what I could possibly be doing wrong. Not attacking him? "You over analyze everything, I can see it. Your reactions must be instinctual. What would you do should I cast Expelliarmus?" He asked impatiently.

"Protego," I replied, trying not to sound as exhausted as I was.

"And that is where you fail. You did not hesitate to answer, yet you hesitate to counter my spells. If you do not, how do you ever hope to survive? You don't. Now, lets try this again."

I groaned and readied my wand. He didn't give me any more time to catch my breath. He gave me no mercy, firing more and more spells at me. I struggled to keep up. I wasn't his daughter or his enemy, but a student, whom he was trying to teach a valuable lesson. But I learned lessons in books. I recognized the spells, I knew the counter spells, but they were far to close by the time I even formulated a thought. So I had to dodge. And if I couldn't dodge, I would get hit, and it hurt, very badly.

It wasn't as if I was incapable of matching him intellectually, we both knew that wasn't true. It was just that, every time I spotted a new spell, shimmering in its unique color, my mind would whirl and I would become distracted. I knew fairly well that I had never been good at thinking on my feet, and this farce of a duel was proof enough of that.

Voldemort fired another spell. His eyes glittered madly. I was reminded of all the people he killed, those that he tortured, and the people that I knew that had suffered. Sirius, the Weasley's Harry's mum and dad, my own parents, who were still suffering. Myrtle and Cedric. And as the memories passed over my eyes, I almost... shut down, and the _Uvaris _spell hit me in my wand arm.

It hurt. Tears burned in my eyes. Stubborn, I regained my stance. Voldemort was watching me. I took a deep breath. The sole purpose of the spell was so the magic took a hold of the recipient's veins and killing the skin cells, blackening the skin. It was a slow process but never the less damaging. If I did not act quickly the spell would kill my nerves, rendering my wand arm useless, and eventually reach my heart and kill the muscle tissue, thus killing me. The pain was crippling, but I stood erect nonetheless.

I did what he wanted. I stopped thinking. I just did. I moved my arm sluggishly, nowhere near the grace Voldemort and Dumbledore held when casting their own spells, but it would have to do for the moment. I fired every spell I could think of. Many were dark, but there were milder curses and jinxes as well. Voldemort countered them all, but he appeared gleeful, happy that I was finally doing what he wanted. I didn't care. At that moment, I just wanted the duel to end. I was exhausted, my body was screaming for relief, and my eyes were about to close. But I had to remain focused, otherwise, I would get seriously hurt.

My injuries won out in the end. I collapsed to my knees, head bowed and very tired. I panted. Voldemort approached me and whispered spells under his breath, healing my injuries. The Uvaris receded, leaving a phantom ache. It was over. It was finally over.

"Better," he said. "But I expect more from you next time." I sighed. I did not want to think about a 'next time.' It was going to be a very, very, long summer.

* * *

**_Disclaimer:_** Any Parseltongue being spoken is purely made up and only in the story because I think it sounds pretty. I'm not a Linguist, I don't know languages. So I'm sorry if you don't like it. Same goes for spells. I made them up. Some, anyway.

_Se'het ne'rra?_: What is it?

**Changes in this chapter: **

**Rita Skeeter made an appearance**

**Draco and Hermione aren't snapping at each others throats.**

**Voldemort and Hermione duel, though that is much of the same.**

**Yule Ball will be happening.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

___All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

_**Thanks so much for your reviews and input, guys! I appreciate it!**_

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"This is all well and good, Miss Gran- Riddle," Rita began with great difficulty. She paused, her wrinkled lips pursed. "But I must ask, when do we get to the good part?"

Rita Skeeter, former _Prophet_ employee, Author of _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_, sat in the Leaky Cauldron with her favorite Quick Quotes Quill and parchment hovering in the air beside her. She looked rather ghastly. Her hair, which used to be a bright, vivacious blond, was now shimmering with shining gray hairs and bright red hair curlers. Her lipstick was slightly askew, some smeared onto her yellowing teeth, and her glasses were bent and sitting oddly on her nose. Her skin was oily and her once finely painted nails were chipped. Her clothes were dull and less extravagant since her firing. Not to mention they were in a need of a good cleaning.

"Good part?"

Hermione Riddle, at twenty five, had made very few appearances in the public since the war had ended. She disappeared from the face of the earth after her trial, and that of Voldemort's, and the only mention of her after that was the short announcement in the _Prophet_ of her marriage to Draco Malfoy. There were few sightings a little before then, but not much else. After her marriage, nothing. She looked wonderful though. Her hair was still bushy and unmanageable, but it shined with health.

Her eyes, a dark, whiskey brown, glittered in the full light and her complexion was healthy and, for one thing, clean. Hermione rarely smiled though, and those who had once been closest to her would notice something decidedly different about their friend. More noticeable than anything else was Dark Magic that lingered around her. It scared Rita. It may not have been visible, but there was an occasional spark and crackle that made her jump.

Rita was never one to miss a good story, and especially one that would make her a lot of money. Everyone wanted to know what happened to Hermione after the war. All the public knew was that, aside from her being Voldemort's daughter, she had been cleared of all crimes under grounds that weren't disclosed. Hermione's trial wasn't even public. Rumor mill had it that Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were there, but that was it. The public was outraged for awhile, but they eventually settled down. Still, their curiosity plagued them. They wanted to know her story. And Rita was fully prepared to give it, if she could get around the guidelines Hermione had set in place.

One, don't ask anything. Two, don't skew and purposefully misinterpret Hermione's words. Three, don't interrogate Harry, Ginny, the Weasley's, Ron, or anyone that she mentions during her story about their opinions on the matter. If they offered it, that would be fine, but Rita couldn't actively seek them was frustrating. She even had to go as far as send Hermione the manuscript so she could read it first! Rita hated Hermione Riddle, there was no other word for it.

Curious, Rita had questioned Hermione what would happen if she did any of these things. Hermione had thrown her head back and laughed, but said nothing. It was very, very reassuring. Knowing her father, Rita wouldn't dare try anything. They both knew Hermione had the upper ground between them, and always had.

Hermione set down her glass of firewhiskey and stared at Rita. She wasn't smiling, or glaring, her face, in reality, was void of anything that might indicate her emotions. "This is war, Rita," she finally said. "There are no 'good parts.' I asked you if you wanted my story, and you shall have it- from the beginning, to the end. You'll just have to be patient. If you want the juicy gossip you're so constantly seeking, you've come to the wrong place."

"You came to me, if I must remind you," Rita said, a touch of a snarl in her tone. It was true, too. Hermione had just showed up in her home, out of nowhere, asking if she wanted to write a book on her part in the war. Rita had been scared, but thrilled at the same time. It would surely get her back working in the prophet. Even if it didn't, she would make loads of money.

Hermione didn't flinch. She wasn't phased. Rita could do nothing to her, while Hermione could make her life hell. "I don't have to write your story," she said. Hermione snorted.

"If you don't, you're an even bigger fool than I realized." She took another delicate sip and smiled.

"Now, let's continue, shall we?"

:S:

When I entered Snape's personal Laboratory, I was a bit nervous. After all, this was Snape and he was a particularly harsh teacher. Studying underneath him was a bit unnerving, especially on a more personal level. He'd always been cold, no matter what, cruel and snarling. That wasn't going to change. I almost expected him to snap at me when I entered. Instead, he pointed to a small tiny flask at the end of one of the tables.

"Drink it," he said. I removed the stopper and the strong scent of peppermint invaded my nostrils. It was very strong, and there was little liquid to speak of inside it. I pursed my lips as I wondered what it was. I trusted Snape. He wouldn't kill me, but his methods- would they be different than in school? Most likely, especially since I was, am, Voldemort's daughter.

I bit my lip. "Well," I murmured to myself, "bottoms up." I drank it. I probably shouldn't have, but Voldemort instructed me to do what Snape said, and besides, I trusted Snape. He wouldn't kill me. I wasn't his favorite student in the world by any means, but I certainly wasn't his least favorite. That title belonged to Harry. No, he wouldn't kill me. He couldn't because of Voldemort anyway, and I had no idea if Dumbledore even cared.

"What is the _Morior _composed of?" Snape asked, almost at random. I swallowed the thin liquid. The taste was almost bitter. It could use some serious sugar, but then that would have ruined whatever it had been. Potions and sugar didn't go well together. The sugar would dilute and absorb the potion too much to be usable, so people just had to deal with the bitter, and rather disgusting, taste.

I recited the ingredients immediately. "Alihotsy, hellebore, belladonna, and peppermint." I read that section of _Sly Posions_ yesterday, and I memorized most, if not all, the poisons listed. It was what Snape, and my father, expected of me, after all.

"Why peppermint?" Snape asked. He was brewing the Polyjuice Potion for Voldemort as he spoke. I watched his movements intently, noting the differences in how he did it compared to how I had when I was in my second year. Professor Snape was much more fluid when it came to Potions. He was excellent at it, but everyone knew that Potions was not his passion- Defense Against the Dark Arts was.

"To disguise the taste of the hellebore and belladonna, both of which have rather strong flavoring and aromas. In large enough quantities, the peppermint can mask anything."

"Another textbook answer, Miss Riddle. In your own words," he snarled out, "or your parents will be missing a meal or two." I sent him a scowl, he was facing the other way, and did as he said. I knew he would keep his word. Snape was nothing if not a man of his word. I paused as I felt heat crash upon my form with such an intensity I began to sweat. I removed my outer robe, revealing the nice shirt and dress pants Narcissa made me wear. It was really hot. Very hot.

"Peppermint leaves." I said again, panting, almost, "are used to disguise the flavor of the other ingredients, so that the person consuming the poison will be unaware." I closed my eyes and pulled my hair up to let my neck be free. My hair often acted like a thick warm blanket. It was likely due to his potion, I thought. Potions tend to make the surrounding area a bit humid.

"Is it required?" Seemingly unaffected by the sudden intense heat. I envied him. He wore nothing but black but never once did he feel the need to pull of his robes so as to become more comfortable. Bastard.

"For- for-, is it hot in here?" I asked him. Snape gave me a look, but no response. I shook my head, trying to forget the stupid ridiculous heat and just answer the question. "No, it's not, unless your target is knowledgeable of poisons and their scents."

"How many days does it require to make _Morior_?" Snape posed. I shook my head, the sweat dripping from my brow, by back, and my neck. I resisted the urge to just forgo my clothing all together when it cooled. Significantly. I wondered if Snape had produced a cooling charm, but it appeared as if he had not moved at all. What was with him? He must have done it though, I certainly didn't.

Now that... well, what was it? I couldn't remember. A month? No, that was Polyjuice. Wasn't it? Or was that the Sleeping Draught? And the Draught of Living Death, didn't that require a month? No, wait, that wasn't it at all. It seemed like... It was too long. The Morior didn't have too many ingredients, just the four... and the peppermint... stirring clockwise and counterclockwise, at... three minute intervals? And, it was for an hour each... it didn't require days, just hours. Three hours.

"Trick question;" I responded. "It only requires three hours." Snape nodded. I turned a small piece of parchment and turned it into a glass, then filling it with water via _Aquamenti_. My lips were beginning to become chapped and my tongue as dry as the Sahara desert. Something was wrong. Was it what I drank? What did he give me? I clutched my head, my thoughts becoming fuzzy. It was like trying to catch a minnow with your hands. It was difficult, nearly impossible to accomplish.

"And, how long will it take for the poison to completely circulate through the victim's body?" Blood only took a minute. But, it wasn't injected into the blood, but consumed through the.. the mouth. So, then, it would have to go down the esophagus, and into the stomach, the small intestines... it took about... to digest, and it would.. it would then.. go into the blood stream! Which only took a minute! So...

"Thirty hours."

"Name the symptoms." I closed my eyes. I tried to recall what the book said, but I couldn't remember. It was there, I knew it, but I just couldn't grasp the information from the large lexicon in my brain. Wait, maybe... maybe he gave me.. the Morior so, what am I feeling now?

"Hot flashes," I said, leaning against the cold wall. It felt sooo good. "Dryness of mouth..." Snape watched me with a careful eye.

"What else, Miss Riddle?"

"Dizziness?" I guessed as I tried to straighten up. It felt like my entire world was tumbling and turning. I resisted the urge to retch as I continued, "Nausea."

"What else?" He asked again. I shook my head, but that was a mistake. I retched on the floor. With a disgusted look Snape took a step back, vanishing the vomit away from his sight and my nose. If I smelled it, it would only make it worse. My body was trying to reject the poison, but I hadn't eaten before the lesson began. It hadn't been absorbed, but was nestling and merging with my stomach acid.

"What else, Miss Riddle?" Snape demanded.

"I don't know!" I cried out, holding my stomach, hunched over. I was so tired. So very tired. "Exhaustion?" I murmured.

"Wrong," he snarled out. "I suggest you go find out. Write me every symptom and bring it back to me, along with the lists of ingredients for the cure. You have thirty hours."

Thirty hours? That's how long it would take until it killed me. I groaned and made my way out of the laboratory, struggling over the steps. For a second, if I blinked, I thought I could see worms, coming from the ground. But if I blinked, they'd be gone again. About the time I finished climbing the stairs I had a splitting headache, which I tried to add to the mental list of symptoms, but it hurt far too much.

I pushed on, mostly for the fact that I didn't want to die any time soon. The heat came back and I groaned, ready to throw up again as I stumbled to my father's library. It was either his library or the Malfoy library, and I was hoping his contained the book I was looking for. I pushed open the door, ignoring my father who gave me a look of admonishment.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Severus at the moment, _Solethyn_?" I shuddered as the snake speak rolled off his tongue and ignored him. I was looking desperately for the book, but then it's title slipped through my fingers, like grains of sand. I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember and if I didn't remember, then I would die. I had to figure it out.

I pulled a book from the shelf and scarabs emerged, crawling up my arms and all over my body. I could feel their feet, scurrying across my clothing and skin. I tried desperately to brush them off when I fell to the floor. Even more scarabs, with glistening black shells, were on the ground. They covered me in a cold embrace, crawling underneath my skin and into my eyes. It hurt, it hurt so much. I just wanted it to end.

"No, no no no!" I cried out. "Get them off me! Get them off me!" Tears in my eyes, I tried to grab them, but they always alluded me, and I ended up with a fist full of clothing. Voldemort hurried by my side, grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me free of them. The scarabs fell off and they crawled out from beneath my skin. They weren't crawling over him. They wouldn't even go near him.

"Get a hold of yourself, girl!" He said, not in an angry tone, but urgent. "It's not real. Do you understand me? It's not real."

I nodded, sobbing. It felt so real, and I could still feel the scarabs on me. I pulled Voldemort closer and clung to his robes, sobbing into his shoulder. He seemed shocked by this, and extremely uncomfortable. I buried my face in his chest, knowing that he would keep the scarabs at bay. It was irrational, but I needed to be comforted. I needed someone to hold me close and let me know it wasn't real, because Hugo was locked up in the dungeon. Voldemort was the only one there, and he was the first person I latched onto.

In the back of my mind, the rational part of me knew it was just an allusion, caused by the alihotsy. It created hysteria, gave you visions when applied in powder form. The fear, though, that was real, and I was scared. My dad, Hugo, would alway hold me when I was scared, and that was what I needed right then. Voldemort seemed to sense this and allowed me to hug him. He even went as far as to pat me on the shoulder, if a little awkwardly.

When I was calmer, and I was convinced there weren't any more scarabs, I asked Voldemort about a book containing the _Morior_ poison. He handed me _Sly Posions_, and I went to work. I listed hysteria, nausea, dizziness, head aches, hot flashes, and dryness of mouth on a roll of parchment, going into as much detail as I could. As there was no cure known for the _Morior_, save for the bezoar, I put that down and hobbled back to his laboratory. Once Snape was satisfied, he gave me the bezoar and after I consumed it, with the help of a little water, I almost felt instant relief. I did not want to feel that again.

:S:

Voldemort and I walked along the garden maze, a few days after the _Morior_ incident. I was carrying yet another Dark Art book that Voldemort required me to read. If I didn't, he would starve my parents. I only had to wait another day before I was allowed to see Hugo and Rose again, and though we fought last time, I was eager to make sure they were safe.

Even still, I couldn't concentrate on the content of the book. It was mostly on how the Dark Arts wasn't like "Light" magic, because it was dense. It weighed down on you and consumed your entire being. It took control of you while it would whisper promises of power, seduce you, enchant you with such pretty words you can't but help but believe it. While it does this, it takes over your entire being. You start ignoring some of the most basic things, like eating and sleeping. All you can ever really focus on are the Arts, and how it can give you everything, if you just read one more page, if you just learn to harness it and control it.

In the beginning you can. It gives you a taste, a tease, shows you what you could do. But it never fulfills it's promise, never fulfills your heart's desire. It would bend to your will, you didn't bend to it. But it doesn't last forever, and what's worse, you don't even notice. You change, but the change is so gradual it's barely tangible. Everything that had once been normal was now different, and everything that was once so strange to you it became normal.

But that was as far as I got. It was fascinating, but I was plagued by other thoughts. Concerning my mother. I hadn't asked Voldemort yet because I had wanted to see if I could find her or her family name in the history books somewhere, but the Mondegos were nowhere to be found. If I was at Hogwarts I could have looked at the library check out lists. I was sure Madam Pince would have a roster with my mother's name on it. Ultimately, I was curious. I wanted to know who she was, and what she had done to even gain some of my father's attention.

"Father," I began. "The key that you gave me, to the vault," I said. Voldemort turned to me, his eyes glittering, but there was not a readable expression on his face. He was listening carefully, as far as I could read. "Who did it belong to?"

"Antoinette Maria Mondego." He answered. There was no tone in his voice. No feeling in the matter. He neither loved nor hated the name, or the person behind it.

"My... mother?" I asked carefully. I didn't want to risk making him angry. Voldemort nodded. "I hadn't heard of her," I admitted.

"You wouldn't have. She attended Beauxbatons and was a French Ambassador for the French Ministry of Magic. The youngest, if I recall correctly." He snapped off a twig from the bush beside him, tearing the leaves apart. I frowned. The act seemed almost... childish.

"Did-" I paused. "Did she truly die in childbirth, or did.. you kill her?" Voldemort snorted.

"How easily you assume these things, Hermione," he said, twirling the twig between his fingers. Only one leaf remained. "I wonder if that is how you think of me?"

"As a murderer?" I asked. "Yes, it is." Not much could change that, unless by some miracle he became a good man after I hugged him. There was no point in lying about it, he would see straight through it anyway. I've never been a really good liar besides.

Voldemort merely shrugged. "Your mother truly died in childbirth."

"How did you meet her?" I asked. My curiosity was overwhelming. I was just wondering how it was possible for anyone to want to conceive a child with an evil Dark Lord. He would have either used the Imperius on her, or seduce her. He could be a charming person if he wanted to be. Ginny told me a little about the memory Tom in the book. He'd always reassured her, always told her how wonderful she was. I didn't doubt he could do the same thing again with a much more mature audience.

Voldemort sent me something akin to a glare, but I ignored him. I would not relent. I wanted answers. When that was clear, Voldemort began. "Your mother was the daughter of Louis Mondego, a business partner of mine, and good friend. He was the French Minister of Magic, at the time. Antoinette had graduated Beauxbatons three years prior. She hated me at first." I raised a brow. Voldemort smirked.

"She was much like you. Or rather, you are much like her. She was headstrong and stubborn, and didn't believe in pureblood supremacy. Actually, she payed me great insult once. If it hadn't been for the relationship between her father and I, and that I had been so amused by it, I would have killed her.

"She loathed the war in Britain. She said, to my face I might add, that I would end up with a lot of inbred wizards and witches by the end of it, and the entire wizarding populace in Britain would end up squibs. Your mother was very brave. A Gryffindor through and through. As for you, it had been an arrangement made between her father and I. I did not wish for the Slytherin bloodline to end with me, should I fail in the war. However, I did not wish for just any one to be the one to birth my child. I respected Antoinette greatly, and rather enjoyed her courage. It was, for lack of a better word, amusing.

"She agreed to it," He went on to explain. "Before you think that she had no choice in the matter. She did. In exchange, she wanted immunity for France. She did not want me going over there to conquer the Ministry. I had no such plans, but I nevertheless, agreed to her condition."

"Then, why did she have a Gringotts vault? They have a smaller branch in France." I asked.

"She also wanted to be the one to raise you," Voldemort explained. "Within reason of course. But as she had said, just because there wasn't any sort of love in our relationship, it did not mean she wanted to give birth to you and be done with you. 'A Mondego she will be born, and a Mondego she will be raised.' I had no issues with it, as I could not devote my entire time to you. Antoinette moved a portion of her finances here and moved into the Riddle Manor as soon as it had been confirmed she conceived. I granted her country immunity, as promised, and made sure my followers knew not to disturb her.

"However, she quickly grew lonely. I could not have her write to her friends in France for security's sake, along with her father. So I began spending some time with her. I knew that if she was unhappy during her pregnancy, the baby, you, would be born unhealthy." Voldemort stopped walking as soon as he stopped speaking. He glanced over to me.

"Is that enough to sate your curiosity?" he asked. It wasn't.

"Did you love her?" I asked.

"Always this ridiculous obsession with love," Voldemort snarled. "I was fond of her," he admitted, "But I never loved her. She would have been a good mother to you, and should have been the one to raise you. Not the filthy Muggle and Squib." I had a gut feeling that Voldemort was leaving out more than he let on, but I didn't say anything. I was pushing it enough already.

"Why did you leave me to Dumbledore?" I questioned.

"As I said, I could not devote my entire time to you as a child requires. Antoinette would have been the one to care for you, had she not died. I couldn't trust my followers with your care, either, so I was only left with one real option. We had lost a great many battles because of you, during that month." At least it took him a while to figure out what he wanted to do. It showed he cared, if only a little.

I nodded, deciding to dwell on the information later. "Did you ever find the spell that was keeping me from speaking parseltongue?"

He didn't remark on the subject change. "It appears he used the _Obex Minimus _to block that specific part of your magic. Only a powerful surge of magic will be able to break it, and it must be spontaneous, not of your will."

"So until I randomly unleash my magic, I won't be able to speak Parseltongue." I murmured.

"Dumbledore would deny you your heritage." Voldemort said with a nod. Yes, he would, if he felt there was enough need for it.

:S:

"Hermione," Draco said as he entered my room. "The Dark Lord's called everyone to the Assembly room."

"Everyone?" I asked. Draco nodded. "All his Death Eaters, yes. And you." I shut the book I was reading and set it aside to follow Draco, shutting and warding my door behind me. I doubted anyone would try to enter it, but I had little freedom and my room was one of them. I would protect it.I wondered what Voldemort wanted. He hadn't called everyone since the first day I arrived, and that had been almost two weeks ago. Did he have something to say?

I followed Draco and found that everyone had indeed been called, save for those locked up in Azkaban. Voldemort sat in his throne, gazing around at the loud and chattering crowd who were so eager to serve. I could see their curiosity on their faces, most, if not all, were surprisingly easy to read. They were eager, they were hungry for blood, and they all adored their master. They were so willing to serve, to obey, to lose their minds in his presence. I didn't understand why people trusted him so, loved and revered him so. He was a monster.

"My loyal followers, my friends," Voldemort began, standing from his seat. I resisted the urge to snort. Voldemort didn't have any friends. He may act like it, but none of them, not even Severus or Bellatrix, were his friends. Just pawns. Just tools. I wondered what I was to him. A pawn? Or his daughter? Perhaps it was both. "My daughter and I will be leaving on a trip to France in just a few days, and I am afraid I must bid goodbye to you all for a short time. However, would you like a special treat, before we go?"

The mass array of Death Eaters cheered a yes, chanting the Dark Lord's name in reverence and awe. He soaked it in, his smirk growing. I could almost see his ego growing as well.

"Then I present to you three Muggles and a Muggleborn." Wormtail pushed them into the hall. They were bloody and beaten, thin from malnourishment. The Muggleborn was just a child, only eleven years old. My eyes widened and I cried out for them, but Draco, grasping my hand, held me back. Snape placed a hand on my shoulder.

"That is what he wants, Miss Riddle," Snape whispered, his eyes on the two. His face was decidedly blank. Stoic. Cold. But I could hear the urgency in his voice, warning me not to go up there. I decided to listen to him, staying back, but keeping a tight hold of Draco's hand. He said nothing, instead giving me a soft squeeze. It was nice knowing someone was there for me.

"Have fun," Voldemort said, smirking.

"I have to stop this," I whispered to Draco. Draco gave me a questioning look.

"Where-"

"Under my bed. I'll cover you."

I watched as Bellatrix and Rodolphus took charge in the torture, cursing them, making them scream. Some Death Eaters added their own spells to them. Fenrir Greyback was circling the little boy, who was desperately afraid. I couldn't let him be harmed. He was just a child, just a little boy. What if he had been Harry? Or me? Or Ron? I couldn't let Fenrir take him, I wouldn't let Fenrir make another Remus Lupin.

"What are you planning?" I sent Professor Snape a grim sort of smile and shrugged.

"Something that will no doubt get me killed." I pointed my wand at Fenrir's bum and whispered the spell for my favorite bluebell flames. Snape recognized it immediately when Fenrir leaped at least four feet into the air while his bum was roaring with flames. The little eleven year old, forgetting for a moment what had almost happened, laughed at Fenrir. Greyback ran around the room, trying to get the flames out, forgetting himself. During the cammotion, Draco slipped out of the crowd and made his way to my room.

Several Death Eaters tried putting it out with Aquamenti, but their spells were largely misfired and slicked the floor. The others laughed at his humiliation. Fenrir slipped and fell right into Voldemort. The Dark Lord pushed him off with a snarl and aimed his own Aquamenti right on Fenrir's bum, but it did not put out the flames. I resisted a smirk. Waterproof bluebell flames. My favorite.

Snape quirked a brow. Fenrir rolled in the water on the floor before it finally dawned on him he could remove his scraggly robe. He jumped up and shrugged it off, stomping the flames into oblivion. It was rather sad, I had been enjoying myself.

"Who did this?" Fenrir roared, forgetting the little boy. As he yelled, there was a large boom echoing from another room. Then, some whizzing sounds. The crowd glanced at one another, trying to figure it out what was going on, when it became apparently clear that animals were running amuck in the house. There was the calling of birds and the buzzing of insects. Now everyone was curious. One by one they filed out the room, Voldemort leading them, to find the source of the noise. The Muggles and Muggleborn were left alone in the middle of the room.

"I will lead them to safety, Miss Riddle," Snape said when we were alone. "Send a message to Draco to double back into the crowd. We do not wish him harm, now do we?"

"No, sir." I said, smiling. "Thank you, sir." I never expected Snape's help, honestly. I had planned on leading them out of the manor by myself, but that wouldn't have been enough. Voldemort had wards against me leaving the property without someone with me, and only a Death Eater could leave and come back at will. Besides, if I had led them out, where would they go? No, I was sincerely glad Professor Snape had decided to help. Otherwise, they might have ended up back here.

Snape said nothing before he did as he promised. It took some convincing, but the Muggles and Muggleborn eventually followed him out of the room. While he did this, I sent Draco a patronus message.

"Relay this to Draco: Head back into the crowd, they're coming. Make sure your not seen, either." The otter swirled in acknowledgement and off it went. I followed the crowd of Death Eaters, crammed into the tiny hallways until we came upon the kitchens. It was filled with swamp water and muck. Birds were perched on top of the stoves and cupboard, preening themselves. Frogs leaped from lily pad to lily pad, and I swear, I saw a moving log. I knew it was an alligator though as soon as it blinked.

"What a bit of work," Voldemort commented. "Tell me, Hermione," the Death Eaters took a stepback, hugging the walls until Voldemort could see me. I gazed at him steadily, my head held high. "Was this your doing?"

"Yes," I said. _Please don't use legilimency, please don't use legilimency._ I begged within my mind. I didn't want him to know Draco had helped. Didn't want to see him harmed.

"You are too soft." He said. "I suspect you are the reason Fenrir must buy a new robe as well." I didn't deny it. I could see the rage boil within Greyback as I said nothing, never denying his words.

"It was you?" Fenrir snarled out. "You who made a fool out of me?" I could tell that Fenrir wanted to snap my neck, or do worse to me. He was like a volcano, ready to rupture at any moment. I was afraid, but I didn't let it show. I couldn't let it show. He smirked. "I can smell your fear, you little-"

"Fenrir." Voldemort called out coldly. "That is enough. I will see to it that she is appropriately punished." Voldemort raised his wand at me, and without mercy, he said, "_Imperio._"

* * *

_**Disclaimer:**_ Any Parseltongue being spoken is purely made up and only in the story because I think it sounds pretty. I'm not a Linguist, I don't know languages. So I'm sorry if you don't like it. Same goes for spells. I made them up. Some, anyway.

_Solethyn (Sol-eth-een) :_ My daughter/my girl

Before I forget, your results on the poll are on my profile. However, considering the changes I made, I might not have another sequel at all. In which case, One hundred memories will act in the sequel's stead. It's a what if story regarding if Hermione was raised by Voldemort. Sort of. You'll have to read it. I will be hosting another poll after this chapter is up, so be sure to stop by if you're interested!

**Changes in this chapter:**

**Something's changing between Draco and Hermione. They aren't in love yet, so don't worry. **

**More on Hermione's mommy. Yay!**

**Some of the Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes products were used.**

**More information included about the tortures/poison lessons with Snape. **

**Voldemort Imperiused Hermione.**

**Voldemort and Hermione are going to France. Yay! France!**

**Draco/Hermione/Snape defied Voldemort a bit.**

Thank you again for all your reviews and support!


	6. Chapter 6

_All recognized belongs to the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

_**Thanks so much for your reviews!**_

* * *

I felt weightless, happy. If I closed my eyes, I could picture myself standing on a beach, just a beach, with no island behind me, and the ocean lapping at my feet, teasing me. The sky was blue and clear of clouds, the sun was shining bright above me, but the air itself was cool. It was relaxing. The ocean had wiped me of my memory, and all I knew was the pleasant sort of feeling that I never wanted to end.

And then, there was a voice. The voice was soft, sweet and delicate. Gentle, almost. _Go to the Assembly room, Hermione. _Assembly room? Where was- oh I remembered now. No no, I wanted to stay at the beach. It was so peaceful.

I opened my eyes and found myself surrounded by people staring at me. One was particularly angry, he resembled a monster. Another man was even more monster like, with ruby eyes that held a sort of fire in them, and no nose. I immediately recalled who he was, and placed him as the owner of the voice. He was holding out his wand, pointing it at me. _Go to the Assembly room, Hermione. _Alright alright, if that's what you want. I lead the way, the thrall of people following every twist and turn I made.

Something in the back of my mind was nagging me that something was wrong, but I didn't pay any attention to it. How could anything be wrong? I felt on top of the world! Nothing could go wrong, nothing was wrong. Everything was perfectly fine. That little nagging needed to stop.

I stopped in the center of the room, noticing nothing in particular. Snape stood next to Voldemort, who looked a bit outraged. Why was he angry? I did nothing wrong. Nothing at all. _WHERE DID THE MUGGLES GO, HERMIONE?_ Voldemort raged within my mind. I blinked, and for the moment I could see a storm coming along. The sky was getting darker from the far off clouds, it would be closer, soon.

I don't know, I thought, honest. I didn't remember, or couldn't. But I don't know their fate, I don't know what happened to them.

_TELL ME THE TRUTH! _He roared. I blinked again, the storm was closer now. It was no longer peaceful. I was made aware of what muggles he was talking about now, and reminded of what I had done. It is the truth! I thought. I don't know where they are!

"Rodulphus, Bellatrix," Voldemort snarled out, "Bring out the Muggle and Squib."

Muggle. Squib. Parents. What did he want with my parents? I blinked, the storm raging now, completely angry. A hurricane. A maelstrom. Destruction and torment. Please, what did he want with them?

They did as he bid, and a moment later, my parents came out. _Use the Cruciatus on the Muggle._ My eyes immediately went to Hugo. He was bleeding and thin, malnourished and soiled with his own feces. His face was bruised and his eyes... Merlin, he didn't have any eyes. I sobbed, hand over my mouth, everything suddenly clear.

Voldemort hadn't stopped his followers from harming them. I went to my mother, fighting for clarity in my mind, and it was the same, only, her mouth was parted. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the tears. Her tongue had been cut out.

The ocean was trying to over take me, the waves crashing over my form, leaving me wet and with strands of insanity. I wouldn't allow myself to be submerged in the water. I was fighting the tide, trying to keep steady. I would not falter.

_Use the Cruciatus on the Muggle, Hermione._ Voldemort demanded. No. No! I can't! I just can't. Merlin, please, no. I fought. I tried to release myself from his hold. But my arm moved without my permission, and my mouth formed words that I should have never uttered toward my parents. They raised me. They loved me, for sixteen years they treated me as their own.

And this was how I repaid them? They were suffering. They were in pain and in torment. I didn't know if they could hear me, or knew what was going on, but I wouldn't let them suffer. I couldn't let it continue.

So... I killed them. Their deaths were easy and swift, I could almost hear their sigh of relief as their life left them. They had been tortured almost daily, Snape would tell me later. They were malnourished and soiled in their own feces. I had granted them a mercy, though most people wouldn't see it that way. I didn't. I killed the people who loved me and raised me for sixteen years. I repaid them by killing them. What kind of loving daughter did that?

My mother fell first, and before Voldemort realized what I had done I did the same for my dad. I killed them. I killed them. My mind was suddenly very blank, my heart void of sorrow, and guilt. I closed my eyes and fell to the floor, my eyes free from tears. I was empty.

Voldemort was very silent. His eyes were narrowed. He lifted me by the collar of my robe and threw me aside. Defied once again, Voldemort was furious.

"Throw them out and feed them to the rats." He said quietly. A few of the lesser Death Eaters did as he bid, lifting them with their magic. Their bodies rigid, they followed silently behind them in the air. That was the last time I ever saw them. I didn't even tell them I loved them.

"The rest of you," Voldemort continued, "Out." Wordlessly they did as he asked. They were shocked I would even kill my own parents, but in truth I had little choice. It was either keep them and let them suffer, or kill them and free them from Voldemort's grasp. I didn't know why I didn't think of it before. I suppose I could never consider it an option. I loved them too much to kill them. But I also loved them too much to let them suffer.

"You defied me twice now." Voldemort said slowly. The room was clear except for Snape. He always seemed to be the exception to the rule. I didn't look at Voldemort. I was afraid to look into his eyes. I stared at where my parent's bodies had been instead. It haunted me, and still does to this day. "If you were any other person I would have killed you. Fortunately for you, I will not be doing so."

"_Crucio." _

I didn't even feel it. When I closed my eyes, I would see my parents. I killed them, and I shut down.

"I do not wish to hurt you, Hermione," Voldemort said softly. "Unfortunately I must. I will not be defied." He cursed me again and again, always in short bursts, but I didn't feel it. I didn't scream. If it wasn't for Snape, telling me what had happened, I wouldn't have even known.

He cursed me a lot, then told me to get up and I did. I didn't argue. Days and nights passed, the lines blurred. I remember some screaming, causing pain but it didn't register in my mind until I slept. It sort of became my reality. In my dreams, I remembered what happened during the day. My mind told me what I did. I tortured Muggles, sometimes with wands, sometimes with knives, but I always killed them. I heard their screaming in my dreams.

:S:

In my dreams, the faces of my victims haunted me. Their sockets had no eyes to fill them, their mouths had no tongue to speak. They were bloody and bruised, cuts lining their faces. They always smiled at me. And even if they didn't have eyes, it was like they were staring deep into my soul. They would look at me with forgiveness and love. I think that was the worst of it, because I couldn't handle it. I'd wake up screaming, moments of clarity, unwilling to sleep, but then I'd fall into this sort of daze and go back to sleep. My mind and body had practically shut down, though I was very much alive. It didn't seem like it.

And then there were faceless muggles. I didn't know them. I still screamed.

Blood was everywhere. It was thick in the air, I could taste it as I breathed in. It soaked my clothes, it covered my hands. I was on the floor, in a pool of the warm liquid, deep scarlet in it's color. Something was heavy in my hand. A knife. I dropped it. It clattered to the floor, spraying liquid on my face. I gasped. What was going on?

Bodies. There were three bodies on the floor. Muggles? Wizads? Witches? Who were they? I couldn't tell. Their bodies were mutilated. But they were breathing. It was staggered. Heavy. I couldn't- they were alive! Had I done this to them? Had I harmed them?

Their faces turned to me. They had no eyes, _they had no eyes!_

"_Why? Why did you do this to us?"_ They called us. I screamed, and I woke up.

:S:

I don't remember much of this. Draco told me I walked around like a zombie, eating and sleeping and using the loo only when prompted. Draco also said that Voldemort wasn't too pleased with his fact, but from what Snape said, I would need to "wake up," so to speak, on my own. There really wasn't much he could do about it. He brought this onto himself, I would think, later on. He was the one who ordered me to kill my parents. I could only bend so far before I broke.

Fortunately for me I could still retain information. Not visually of course, but what I heard. I never thought anything on it, but it still remained in my mind. Snape would list off ingredients to certain poisons and I would recall exactly what they made, but because I had almost no comprehension, he didn't risk putting me through a similar simulation like the Morior.

I also did whatever I was told. It was how Draco cared for me, because Voldemort couldn't be bothered to take responsibility, so Draco was asked to. I'd like to think he would have done it on his own anyway, but even after spending some time with him, I didn't know much about who he was as a person, aside from the cruelty I experienced in the past. However, Voldemort would take advantage of my position. He ordered me to kill muggles and muggleborns, torturing them exactly as Voldemort depicted. I always remembered them in my nightmares. The haze of the days was my only escape from the realistic nightmares I experienced as I slept.

Sometimes the Death Eaters would try to use this to their advantage, until Voldemort publicly punished a few of the ones who did. I heard their screams in my sleep, but I felt no sympathy for them, even then, the only time I could feel. Most of the time, all I felt was fear. Rodolphus and Wormtail tried, on a few occasions, to bring me to their bed after Bellatrix dared them too. It didn't matter that I was Voldemort's daughter, I was a weak, broken little doll they wanted to play with.

Draco was the one to bring the news to Voldemort. He was less than pleased, obviously, at both him and the two who had actually used me. Draco for not doing his duty to watch over me, Rodolphus and Wormtail for almost raping me, and Bellatrix for instigating it. He did not kill them, but they begged for it by the time Voldemort was through. I hate them still, even though all I retained from those moments are flash memories. I could still feel Wormtail's clammy hands on occasion, or the hot breath of Rodolphus on my neck.

After Voldemort had punished him, Draco slept in my room, or I in his. I always had the bed, but I woke him from nightmares, so he held me in the night to calm me down. It did. He smelled of peppermint and fresh rainwater, something so soothing, I had no nightmares. When he didn't hold me in my sleep, I had the nightmares again. So it became a sort of habit, as we both desired sleep. If Voldemort knew he gave no indication of it, and I wouldn't remember if he did. Nor would I have cared.

Days passed in blurs. Voldemort put off our trip to France to see if I would recover, but seeing as I hadn't, he finally relented and we, Voldemort, Draco and I, packed our bags. Even in my dazed state I knew something was going on. We went by private jet, owned by the Malfoys, as Draco later told me. I told him it was hypocritical of them to hate muggles the way they do and use their technology, even while insisting they are inferior. Voldemort would later remark at convenience, as international apparition was too much hassle.

The first day there, I met my grandfather, Louis Mandego. Louis exclaimed his excitement to see me, but Voldemort explained my recent status as an unresponsive idiot. Draco said, in my defense, a change of scenery should do me some good. So, after we changed and freshened up, Mondego gave us a tour of Paris. What happened next, I remember clearly.

We were standing on the top floor of the Eiffel tower. Everything was empty. I could see the lights, could feel the cold air, but it wasn't real. It was like I was in a dream, a dream I wouldn't wake up from. Couldn't wake up from. There was no color. No emotions. Emptiness, the void ready to consume me.

I looked down at the ground, leaning over the rails, while Draco said something I didn't hear. I tuned him out. There were people down there. We were very high up. I wondered, how long would it take for me to fall? How fast would I go, until I died? I wanted to test it out. It was a bit of knowledge I didn't posses, so, why not experiment, yes? I climbed up on the rail, struggling to keep my balance.

"Hermione?" Draco called, his voice muffled. Alarmed, he grabbed my dress. I held my arms up, my eyes closed. Grandfather Louis cried out in alarm, and Voldemort watched. Standing on the rails, perfectly balanced, I could feel the air for the first time in what felt like months. Years. It was cold, gently teasing my hair, playing with it. My dress flowed around me smoothly, and I was so ready to fall. I would see my parents again. Draco grasped my hand and I gasped, feeling his warmth.

His hand was so warm. So unfamiliar to the coldness I felt. My fingers enclosed around his, and grasped onto his warmth, clung to it for dear life. His warmth woke me up. I opened my eyes and I really saw the world, until it blurred again from tears. Draco pulled me off the railing and into his arms, where I sobbed until I was out of tears. He was my lifeline, something real, something good if not completely evil in the messed up life I had.

I didn't love him. Not then, not yet. But I knew I needed him if I was to stay sane. I almost lost it then, who knew what would happen in the years to follow?

"You alright?" He asked, once I stopped crying. I shook my head. It was the first time I really responded in weeks.

"What came over you, child?" Grandfather Louis asked. I blinked. I opened my mouth and breathed,

"I... just wanted to die." That was it. I wanted to die. I wanted to see my parents. I wanted to leave the land of the living, to be done with the blasted war. But Draco.. His warmth.. woke me up.

Louis pursed his lips and said, "I think, that the tour is over. Come come, let us go home and rest. Tomorrow, Hermione, we shall bond." I smiled. I was honestly looking forward to it. As we descended the Eiffel tower and made our way to the mansion, I still grasped Draco's hand. He made no effort to let go.

:S:

I found Louis in the parlor room the next morning, pouring over some pictures. Voldemort was sitting by the fireplace, sipping some tea. It was funny. Voldemort looked about as regal as any pureblood was supposed to be, but Louis, he was sitting on the floor with his legs tucked underneath him, shuffling the pictures and looking, well, very normal. Like he didn't have a care in the world, especially how others portrayed him. I instantly liked the man.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, sitting down beside him. He scooted over so I could have so room and handed me the photos, some were moving, and some weren't. I was surprised to find muggle photos among them, to be perfectly honest. In the photos there was always a woman, and occasionally a man. The woman had blond curls, wild and free, and her eyes held a certain ferocity, yet laughter, as well. She looked like me, to be perfectly honest. We had the same eyes and mouth, but it was clear I had Voldemort's nose and ears.

"That is Antoinette, your mother." He said with a smile. "You look just like her, you know, but you have your father's hair color." I gave a grim sort of smile in acknowledgment, but switched to another photo instead of replying.

"Ah," Louis pointed to the man, "that happens to be your father."

My eyes widened in shock. "You're joking." The man in the photo looked nothing like him. He had a clear, distinct nose, and brown hair, and it was clear he hadn't had red eyes. But, he was what, sixty four in this photo? He didn't look like it at all. He looked to be at least in his late thirties, early forties. I turned to Voldemort.

"Did you transfigure yourself to look different?" I asked him. Voldemort sipped the rest of his tea and nodded.

"My true appearance hadn't been made apparent to your mother until much later."

"After the wedding," Louis added. I gasped.

"Louis-" Voldemort warned. But the damage had been done. I distinctly heard wedding. Voldemort married my mother. Voldemort. Marriage. It just didn't make sense!

"But you said you made an agreement with her, not that you married her!"

"It was a marriage agreement," Voldemort allowed, but Louis interrupted him.

"Oh posh! You married my daughter because you wanted to."

"But you couldn't have loved her, so why?" I asked. That's what I wanted to know. Because no one as hateful as him could love someone and still plan a mass genocide on Muggleborns and Muggles.

"Whoever said your father couldn't love?" Louis questioned. Voldemort stood and pointed his wand at Louis, but it was apparent Louis didn't feel the least bit threatened by it. His gaze rested steadily on me, and it was clear he wanted an answer.

"No one, b-but...Who kills people while loving another?" I demanded. "Who marries someone, cherishes their life, and goes and takes another away?"

"You killed your adopted parents, did you not?" Voldemort returned. "You loved them." Louis gasped and I ignored him, turning angrily to Voldemort. My eyes were furrowed and my magic began to crackle around me. Voldemort did not react to this, but was deathly calm. It wasn't like I could hurt him anyway.

"That was your fault!" I said. "You had me torture them, I couldn't just let them suffer!"

"So you killed them. How does that make you any different than me?" He asked.

"I did so with good intentions, and even then I regretted it. You've never regretted the cruelty you have bestowed upon others. What I did was a mercy!"

"Sparing them would have been a mercy, Hermione." Voldemort disputed. I raised my brow in disbelief. A mercy? Didn't he see what had been done with them? Didn't he see their suffering? How much they had to endure? No, sparing them would have been the cruel thing to do. To let their pain linger. It was much like a wounded animal you loved. You wanted it to be alive, because you were selfish and loved it, but you didn't want it to suffer, either. Eventually you realize that no matter how much you loved them, you had to let them go. It was too painful to keep them and watch their misery.

"Spare them? For what? So they could be tortured by your followers? So they could be treated like dirt for two years? No, I'm glad I killed them. At least they wouldn't have to suffer anymore."

"At least they would be alive!" Voldemort hissed. "It is your fault they are dead, not mine!"

I was about to retort when I realized something. Something that should have been perfectly clear before, but I hadn't the time to dwell on it. Voldemort. Properly pronounced Voldemor, it means flight from death. That was it. Voldemort was afraid. Afraid of death, of nonexistence. Of leaving the world without making his mark on history, of being forgotten.

It was then I felt an intense pity for him. He.. he was so afraid of death, of being forgotten, he didn't understand how there were worse things in this world. Somethings you can move on from, others, not so much. Like losing loved ones. Like losing your friends. I still didn't understand how he could possibly love anyone, being as cruel as he was, but maybe the word didn't really apply to Voldemort's feelings for my mother. Maybe love was the only adequate word to describe it.

With this understanding, I calmed down, and almost smiled. I didn't. I shook my head and went back to the photos of my mother.

"May I have one?" I asked. Louis nodded. I looked through them and I picked my favorite. It was a picture of Antoinette dancing with Voldemort at their marriage ceremony. It showed him as a person I would never get to meet. Someone who wasn't a monster. I gave a nod to Voldemort before leaving the room, and instead of going to my room, I went to Draco's. As I left, I heard Louis say, "Damn you Tom, you ruined my bonding time." He, Draco was still asleep when I entered his room. It was late in the morning, so I shrugged his shoulder gently.

"Draco," I said. "You've got to get up." He grumbled and covered his face with the comforter. I rolled my eyes. "Come on! I want to do something today, and I've got something to tell you."

"It can wait till later," he grumbled. I raised a brow.

"I've been a zombie for quite awhile now, I want to see Paris. Don't you want to come with?" Draco sighed.

"On one condition."

"Alright, what is it?"

"You sleep with me tonight." As soon as it came out, he was groaning. And blushing, as I pulled down the comforter and saw that his face was beet red. I raised a brow.

"What was that, Draco Malfoy?" I asked, teasingly. He glared at me.

"I didn't mean it like that," he clarified. "I meant like how we used to, when you had nightmares." I smiled and agreed. Because, truth be told, I couldn't really sleep last night. Whether it was in regards to Malfoy's presence or not, I wasn't sure, but if that was what it took for me to sleep, I was more than willing.

Draco sat up and took the picture from my hands. "Who're they?"

"My parents," I said. At his confusion, I clarified. "Voldemort and Antoinette. This is at their marriage ceremony." Draco blinked.

"Say that again." I slapped his arm.

"You heard me. Voldemort got married. I know, it's... unbelievable."

"More than unbelievable. I think hell just froze over." Draco rubbed his eyes before handing me back the photo. My mother was very beautiful, I thought. Her gown was gorgeous. I turned back to him.

"I don't think he loved her. Was attached to her, maybe. Quite fond of her if I'm particularly generous. But I don't think he loved her." I sighed, then said, "Be ready in ten minutes. I'm sure you remember more of Grandfather's tour than I do." I kissed him on the cheek and laughed at his bewilderment. I haven't felt this spectacular in weeks. I held onto the moment while it would last, because I didn't believe it would.

I dressed in a nice blue sundress and slipped on some sandals. I tied my hair back with a blue ribbon and gabbed my purse. I didn't have any galleons, but my parents had an account in one of the banks here, so muggle money wouldn't be a problem, and I could easily exchange it for some galleons at the small bank Gringotts had here in France.

I stopped, thinking on my parents. I felt really guilty for what I did. It tore at me, but I had to push it aside. If I didn't, then I would be miserable all of my life. I'd mourn them later, but now, I had to get on with my life, and figure out a way to get Voldemort back for all he's done to me.

The war has always been personal. Before, when everyone, including myself, believed I was a muggleborn, I was fighting for them and my muggle parents. I was fighting for Harry and the Weasleys. I was fighting for anyone who had suffered under the hand of Voldemort's cruelty, but I myself hadn't truly been affected.

True, Draco would throw comments my way that weren't very polite, borderline cruel (and not to mention rude,) but that was the extent of it. I hadn't been targeted in my younger years. In my fourth year Rita Skeeter was my enemy. But I hadn't suffered because of Voldemort. Now, he kidnapped me. He had tortured me. He forced me under cruel lessons and crucioed me when I defied him. He had my parents tortured, and had me torture them. Our relationship was borderline hostile and definitely bewildering, seeing as Voldemort treated me terribly and I hated him.

I pitied him, true. He was afraid of Death, of the Afterlife. He was afraid of being forgotten. But that didn't excuse his behavior for one and it certainly didn't excuse a war. Two, to be exact. I pursed my lips. He didn't really understand suffering. I wanted him to feel worse than I felt when I killed my parents. I wanted him to feel totally destroyed. But how, I didn't know.

Grim, grim thoughts. I needed happy thoughts right now. I waited by the door for Draco, and was soon joined by Voldemort and Louis.

"And where exactly are you going?" He asked.

"Explore Paris," I said with a shrug. "I don't remember much of grandfather's tour, so I wanted to see it today."

"With Draco?" he asked. I raised a brow.

"Is there a problem?" I asked him, arms crossed. I wasn't about to relent on this. He took much from me, I wasn't about to let him take the only sane piece of reality I had.

"Yes, Tom, is there a problem?" Louis asked. "Let them have their fun! After all, it is as I've always said, people come to Paris to fall in love." I blushed.

"Draco's just a good friend of mine- we're not, I mean, that is- we're not together." I was still red when Draco walked in. Louis ignored him and quirked a brow.

"Are you so sure?" He asked, peering at me. "Doth thy lady protest too much?"

"No, she doth not," I said in reply. I grabbed Draco's hand. "Come on, these two are driving me insane."

Draco chuckled. "It's a wonder you haven't been driven insane already."

I snorted. "I almost jumped from the Eiffel tower, I think I've reached that point. Goodbye, Father, Grandfather." I waved them a goodbye as we headed out the large mansion and into the bright light of the outside world. I smiled. I was so ready to be happy for once.

* * *

I think Hermione's being too nonchalant about this, but I've rewritten this chapter five times already. I'm done. I'll fix whatever I need to later, but I need to update. Forgive me for the lateness of it.


	7. Chapter 7

You'll notice a bold **He **toward the end. Play this song, as it is the one Grandfather Louis plays for Hermione and Draco. It's called Moondance by Nightwish, I couldn't resist including it. This is just a cover, but as not the entire actual song is in piano, I thought it best to just go for the cover.

Http : / www . Youtube . Com / watch ?v=CAE3 qew5qF4

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling._

_**Thank you for your reviews! I greatly appreciate them. :)**_

* * *

I stared down at the cobble stone road, doing my best to avoid the cracks as I stepped on the tips of my toes. I held onto Draco's arm for support while he watched me with incredulity. He was probably wondering what was wrong with me, but at that moment, I had to ask what wasn't. Nevertheless, we walked along the streets away from passing cars with little conversation, even if it was about my strange behavior.

Draco was a little more than out of his element, to be honest. He hated Muggles, but I refused to spend the entire day in Magical London. I would have liked to have visited the_ La bibliothèque magique. _It had more books than at Hogwarts, and the official Ministry Library. However, we didn't have proper clearance, and I didn't want to go to my grandfather's home to get it.

"I hate this. We should go to the _Rue magique_, at least there people act civilized." He skipped over the fact I wasn't acting very civilized, either. "They don't listen to music on the streets, they don't sing and dance like idiots.." He was referring to the gypsy people across the street. I rather liked their dancing and music, banging their tambourines, singing the songs of their souls. I interrupted his complaining.

"I used to do this as a little girl, with my parents. On these very cobblestones." I laid my feet flat on the ground, pursing my lips. "They took me to Paris when I was eight years old. I had read all about Paris, and insisted we see everything. I know Paris like the back of my hand."

"Then why-"

"I wanted to relive the memories. But I can't. Not really." I looked over the gypsies, the mimes, the musicians. We were in the heart of Paris. People living the lives they loved. If there was anything I wanted, I wanted to live a life free of the war. At the same time, there were things I wanted to keep. I wanted to keep Harry and Ron. The Weasleys. My parents. I didn't have them anymore though, and I would gladly give up Voldemort if given the chance to see them again. I couldn't say that about Harry and Ron though, even Draco.

My parents were dead. There wasn't a point in trying to get them back through memories. I just had to hold onto the happy ones, leave the sad ones behind, and move on. But it was too soon to move on. But I couldn't think about it, either. Later, I had promised myself. I would think on it all later.

I grasped Draco's hand. He squeezed it tightly. I felt really grateful for Draco. What he did yesterday. He woke me up. I lost it but I regained my sanity. He wasn't the greatest guy in the world, but he was the only real thing I could hold onto with a life full of Death Eaters and snakes. I just had to hold until the rest of the summer, but what would happen, during the school year? I looked up at the sky, hints of dusk falling around us. Shops would be closing soon.

"I'm so sick of this," I admitted to him. "I'm so sick of feeling this way. It's just- I'm trapped. I'm trapped with absolutely no way out. I can't leave because of my father, and I'm miserable otherwise. It's like I'm trying to claw my way out of my own head, but I have these chains around my wrists and I can't even..."

Draco wrapped his arms around me, even though I wasn't crying. I couldn't cry. I was done crying. But the gesture didn't go unappreciated. He made a gesture with his hand and this sort of bubble enveloped us, unknown to the muggles passing by. They wouldn't hear us talking, but we could hear them. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. Peppermint and rainwater. Crisp and clean. Comforting. It brought to mind my wondering on what my feelings for Draco were. More than friendship. I liked him.

Liked. Like I had liked Ron? In our fourth year, I had wanted us to be more than friends- but it had taken going with Viktor to the ball for him to even realize I was of the opposite sex. I still wanted him as a friends, but, it had faded. Did I want something similar with Draco? But it would never be similar, they were of two different worlds, and, to be honest, the same could be said for Draco and I.

I had never blushed when coming in contact with Draco though. I hadn't laughed silly whenever he spoke of something, even if it was humorous, to him. I didn't dream of him at night or think of him during the day. My mind was much too distracted for that. But, he was always there when I needed him. He took care of me. I was grateful for that, because no one else would have. Even if, before, we had hated each other.

But did he hate me now? No. I should have to say he didn't. It didn't matter that he would have had I still been muggleborn, what if's were exactly that, ifs. If I had been muggleborn, if I had never befriended Draco. I didn't know what would have happened 'if' and I never would. What did matter was that Draco didn't hate me, and we were friends.

"Draco, we're friends, aren't we?"

Draco snorted. "As if after everything we've been through, we could be anything but." I grinned slightly. We started walking again, though nowhere in particular. Alright, that was settled. And I did like him. He just.. he made me feel safe, something I needed. He quieted my thoughts. When it was me and him, there wasn't Harry and Ron, or Voldemort. They were more of passing thoughts, but nothing to fret or feel guilty over.

I stood on my toes and kissed Draco's cheek. "Thank you." Draco raised a brow.

"For?"

I shrugged and smiled, not really willing to answer.

"You know," I began. "Pansy has this rather large crush on you." I heard Draco groan, and could practically see his eyes roll.

"I know. I wish she would get over it." I frowned.

"But, don't you care?"

Draco paused. "Not particularly. She'll get over it, sooner or later." It was my turn to roll my eyes.

"No thoughts on her feelings whatsoever? Not going to let her down gently?"

"No offense 'Mione, but you don't know Pansy like I do." He told me. "The more you deny Pansy something, the more she wants it. Part of the reason she's spoiled." I snorted. Bit rich coming from him. Draco cleared his throat, a knowing smirk on his face, "Anyway, it's no different with people. You have to ignore it, otherwise her feelings will strengthen. However, you can't ignore her, either. Then she becomes angry, and not exactly someone I want to deal with."

"So you basically act like absolutely nothing is off?"

"Precisely." Draco shrugged. "I don't want her to hurt, don't get me wrong. She's like a sister to me. An annoying sister, but a sister nonetheless. Slytherins often act as family, we have to. No one else is willing to do the same for us, so we must do it ourselves."

He said it with such conviction, I found myself almost believing it too. "But," I said tentatively, "Slytherins haven't given the others to act differently." Draco snorted.

"You're acting high and mighty again, Hermione. Don't let that halo of yours slip down and choke you. The Gryffindors hate us on principle. The Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs aren't much better. We act in our defense."

"Oh yes, it's purely self defense," I snarled. "Lets not forget how much you taunted every one of us. How much you belittled Neville, or how you would insult me and my intelligence every chance you got. You demean anyone you believe is underneath you, which is anyone and everyone who isn't a pureblood, and even they aren't so incredibly lucky. I have no love for Crabbe and Goyle, but you treat them as if they're... they're your servants! Aren't they supposed to be your friends?" I asked, pushing myself away from him. Draco gave me a long, hard look. He was debating something I could tell, but what, I didn't know. Something won over, as he finally said,

"Slytherins don't have friends, Hermione. Everyone is a means to an end."

"I am a bloody Slytherin!" I told him. "If not by house than by blood! I don't see you as a-" I paused, realization dawning on my face. "Does that mean we're not friends?" I asked, turning from him. "Am I a means to an end, Draco?" I demanded. Draco faltered, reaching out for me. I pulled my arm away, my brow furrowed.

"Of course not!" He protested, a little too quickly. I narrowed my eyes. He said desperately, "Hermione, you really are my friend. Sure, we're not as close as Pansy and I are, but that would take years, and there is no comparison between the two of you. Besides, our circumstances are different. You and I were more or less forced together by a war, and it's not like were completely incompatible. We agree on some things. We're both smart, though it's clear who is the more intelligent of the two." I quirked a brow. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Of course I meant you, Granger. I got punished for receiving lower grades than a "mudblood," my father's words, not mine. As if I'd forget it."

"I don't think you're stupid Draco," I said, momentarily forgetting my anger. I had never meant to imply that I thought he was any lesser than I was. I thought we were equals on some level, if not moral understanding. "I've never thought that. A jerk, maybe. A git who needs a good punch to the face from time to time," I grinned, and he did too, "yes. But never stupid. That still doesn't excuse your treatment of others, though. I'm not saying Crabbe and Goyle are exactly your equals, intelligence wise, but it doesn't mean you should treat them any differently."

"I don't. I care for them and watch over them just as they do for me. However, since I am so much smarter than them, I give the orders. They're too stupid to think for themselves." I sighed.

"I still don't like it." Draco shrugged.

"Get used to it. It's worked out well enough for us so far."

"Depends who you're asking," I said. "And, as for the taunting...?"

"I'm not going to apologize. Neville's a bloody fool and a halfwit. Besides, it was expected of me to ridicule and insult you, not to mention Saint bloody Potter and the blood traitor Weasel."

"So you couldn't think for yourself for once?" I demanded.

"I was eleven years old, and by the time I grew up, the habit was already in place." Draco said, annoyed. "I'm not going to apologize for the things of the past, except maybe insulting you as much as I did. You clearly don't deserve it, but I was not made aware of the fact."

"I didn't deserve it then either," I told him. "Muggleborns can be intelligent too, you know, and Muggles aren't the bane of the Wizarding world-" Draco put his fingers to my lips and shushed me. I didn't like it one bit, but I retained my anger for a moment, hoping he had a better reason for interrupting me like that.

"This isn't the conversation to have right now. We're on different opinions on this. Hermione, the only credible thing Muggleborns had was you, and they never really had you in the first place. You're not them. And frankly, the Muggleborns I've met are complete idiots." He stopped and he sighed.

"Listen, some other time, when there isn't lives at stake, we'll have this conversation. But right now, he wouldn't be happy with the either of us. Me, especially."

I wasn't the one at risk of dying at Voldemort's hands. I'd forgotten. I closed my eyes and sighed. "Alright. You're right. Another time then." Draco gave a small smile and draped his arm around my shoulder. I leaned into his warmth.

"So, out of curiosity, what do we agree on?" I hadn't found a single thing yet.

"What, you don't remember? My devilishly good looks." He smirked and I threw back my head and laughed.

"Don't forget your incredible abilities to cuddle." Draco flushed slightly, but grinned. I grinned back.

"Of course. Comes with the territory."

"You know," I said, changing the subject. "Louis seems to feel my father loved my mother."

"You're joking."

"I personally think he just doesn't want to believe his daughter entered a loveless marriage."

"Why did she marry him anyway?" He posed.

"Well, my father says he needed an heir, and she agreed to give birth to me on the condition that he didn't try to conquer France. Apparently they married and she moved in with him at Riddle Manor."

"Sounds cheerful," Draco said grimly. "But, who in their right mind would confine themselves to a life like that?"

I shrugged. "Someone who is in love. Or worse, someone who doesn't mind being the martyr."

"You're not going to be a martyr, are you?" Draco asked, almost teasingly. But there was a hint of seriousness in his voice. I shook my head.

"No." And it was a promise.

:S:

I had a nightmare about my parents. I kept killing them over and over, or watched as Voldemort, Bellatrix and Rodolphus tortured them. They were always laughing and cackling, and my parents were begging for mercy, but I couldn't do a thing. I woke up at three and didn't go back to sleep. I couldn't, not when their screams were in my ears. Every time I did wake, it was always with tears in my eyes. I missed them.

A part of me hated myself for killing them. It didn't make me any better than Voldemort. The other knew that what I did was better than the alternative. It was a mercy. It didn't take away the guilt, regardless.

I climbed out of bed and wrapped a robe around me. It was cold and I was exhausted, but I couldn't go back to sleep. When I closed my eyes, I saw my dad without his eyes, staring at me accusingly. I heard my mom trying to speak, but her words were unclear and garble, her voice full of anguish.

I walked out my room and made my ways to Draco's, a few doors down. I slipped inside and watched as he slept. I didn't do as I promised, and slept beside him, and I wished I had. I wouldn't feel so horrible. I climbed in on the other side, after throwing aside my robe, and wrapped my arms around him. Instinctively, Draco turned and wrapped his arms around me, snuggling into the crook of my neck.

"Mmissed you." He mumbled. I smiled and closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of peppermint and rain. I fell asleep instantly.

:S:

"Hermione my dear! Wake up!" I groaned, hearing my grandfather at my door. Only, I wasn't in my room. "Hermione! I have a gift for you." I climbed out of bed, ignoring Draco's groans, and straightened my nightgown and robes. I really didn't want him to see me in Draco's bedroom, but it was a little late for that.

"Just open the door, Louis." Voldemort said, his voice muffled. Even worse. Voldemort. I groaned. There wasn't much to it. I had to leave the bedroom at some point, and they would see me. I'm sure they would have learned of our relationship at some point, but the situation would implicate a level of intimacy that Draco and I did not have. And that was what I was worried about. But! I could always lie. Too bad I'm terrible at it.

I took a deep breath and stepped out the door.

"Oh!" Louis said, surprised. Voldemort raised a questioning brow, clearly not pleased. "Hermione, I thought you'd be in your room."

"I was," I said, my voice much smoother than I expected. I did not look into Voldemort's eyes. I didn't know if Louis could perform Legilimency, but I wasn't going to risk Voldemort. "But I woke and tried to wake up Draco as well. He promised we'd go to the bakery nearby, for breakfast. He's not exactly awake, though."

"Oh! Well, then, no worries. Come come, you can go after I show you my gift. Come come my dear!" Lois led the way and Voldemort fell in step beside her, watching Louis as he practically skipped to wherever he was taking them.

"You are in a relationship with Draco." I shook my head. It was the honest truth, we weren't.

"Just friends. But he... keeps the nightmares away. It's better than becoming dependent on dreamless sleep." Voldemort made a noncommittal sound in response, but didn't say anything. We arrived in the parlor, a gorgeous room with blues and whites, and a white grand piano tucked demurely in the corner, and there was a gorgeous gown in the middle of the room, hanging on a mannequin. It was a beautiful forest green, had a sleek, slim black bodice with the skirt flowing out. The sleeves were bunched at the shoulders, fitted the forearms, and flowed out from the elbows in gossamer fabric, glittering in the light. I recognized it as my mother's old dress from the photos.

"Oh grandfather," I whispered. "It's beautiful."

"Your father told me you would have yet another Yule Ball. I insist, you must where this dress." His eyes lit up. "Oh! Try it on, try it on!"

"Alright," I said, suddenly feeling very girlish. I was becoming very giddy, but it really was a gorgeous gown. Perfect for the Yule Ball. I gathered it and went to my room. When I cam back, I had on black heels and my hair tied up by a green bow. Voldemort looked me over and nodded his agreement.

"You look lovely." I bowed my head and allowed myself a smile.

"Thank you."

"Oh, you must dance now! Yes yes yes," he said. "Dance with your father. I will play the piano." He sat down at it and I blanched. Voldemort held out his hand, giving me a choice. I didn't have to take it. I knew that. But... I took it. He then placed his other hand slightly above my waist, barely brushing the fabric, and he held my hand delicately in his own. Almost like he was disgusted with the contact. Somehow, though, I knew it was more or less for my benefit than his.

We moved as Louis played a song, a tune I did not recognize, and I was surprised to find that he was an excellent dancer. Better than Draco, at least, and Viktor. I suppose he had more time.

"You look exactly like your mother," he said. I snorted, but smiled all the same. "Truly. Despite your hair not being the right color."

"What was she like?" I asked him. Really, I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to have much to do with him. But I wasn't granted the luxury of choice, and neutral conversation wasn't too far out of my reach.

"Much like you, as I have said. Bold and daring, she was a spitfire. She didn't follow orders very well."

"However did you handle her?" I asked, my words dipped in sarcasm.

"I did not treat her with anything less than the respect she deserved. She was a powerful, intelligent witch. My equal, in nearly every way."

"Let me guess- a difference of opinions?" I asked as he twirled me around. My dress whooshed around my legs, caressing them with tender kisses of fabric.

"Yes. She had your similar opinions. Likely the way she was raised." He said. "I could not fault her for it. I thought her a fool, yes, but one cannot help one's birth, or how one is raised."

I knew that even better than him.

"Do you visit grandfather Louis often?" I asked. "Write to him?"

"No. I have not seen him these years since your mother died."

"Ah." After that we fell into silence. The song ended and I found Draco, dressed, and watching. He cleared his throat and addressed Voldemort.

"May I intervene, my lord?" Voldemort glanced at me.

"By all means, Mr. Malfoy."

He bowed and took his place. I greeted Draco with a warm smile.

"You look beautiful," he complimented. I blushed slightly.

"Thank you. Apparently the dress agrees with me." I commented.

"And the color," he agreed. I snorted. Not wanting to incite an argument, I directed the conversation elsewhere.

"What time did you wake up?" I asked him.

"After you did." He said. Draco cleared his throat. "Hermione- would you do me the honor of going out with me?" I paused, my eyes narrowed.

"Like, on a date?" I asked carefully, mulling the idea in my mind. It wasn't a repulsive idea. In fact, if I analyzed my feelings that moment, I would be surprised to find myself even thrilled. It just seemed so... out of place for him to ask me so soon. I didn't understand it. He was behaving weirdly, too. He wasn't using his usual arrogant suave he had going on. He seemed nervous.

Draco's arms fell to the side. He nodded. Louis and Voldemort watched intently, silent spectators. I ignored them, my attention fully given to Draco. He squirmed under my scrutinizing gaze. Yes, I decided, something was off. But what? Or was I simply over analyzing it, over complicating things, as I had done many times before?

Maybe he was simply nervous about asking out the Dark Lord's daughter. Voldemort would have no qualms with killing him, save that the Malfoys might plan a revolt. Draco was the leash he held around their throats, really. His life in his hands meant their lives in his hands. It was a tragic thing, but the truth, never the less. Yes, I decided. Perhaps that was it.

"I thought we had agreed that we are friends," I said cautiously.

"Yes, but we- I- You never said we couldn't be more than that."

"Well- Yes- but, it was never implied- really..."

"Come on Hermione. After all we've been through, you can't tell me you're self conscious now." He said, exasperated. "N-not like that!" He said, glancing to an annoyed, albeit amused, Voldemort. He was enjoying seeing Draco squirm. I had to admit, it was entertaining.

"No, but I'm just not sure where it could actually _go_." I told him honestly. "I- you're an invaluable friend, I wouldn't trade you for the world, but..."

"Don't be afraid, Hermione." I looked up at him.

"Draco, I'm not afraid- least of all of you." I told him. "Nor am I afraid of being in a relationship. But it just seems rather sudden that you would ask me."

"I was thinking on it all day yesterday, but I did not have the chance since we were arguing with each other." He defended. There had been plenty of opportunities. Like before the argument, or after, or much earlier on in the day. Something was up. I wanted to know what, but it would seem that the only way to know was to go out with him.

"Alright," I convened. "Alright, Draco. I would love to." It was the truth, too. I never said I didn't want to go out with him. But his reasons behind it I wasn't so sure about. Nevertheless, if I was to find out, I had to become closer to him, did I not? Closer than we already were. He held my face and kissed my forehead. I smiled at the contact. When he pulled back, his hand settling around my own, I gazed up at him steadily, completely serious.

"If you're leading me on, Draco Abraxus Malfoy, I swear I'll kill you." Draco smiled at that, almost grinning.

"Don't worry, Hermione. You won't regret it."

"I better not," I told him. "I know ooh so many ways of hurting you now it's not even slightly hilarious." I grinned. "But you won't have to worry, now will you?"

"You should have been in Slytherin." I snorted.

"That's hardly the first Slytherin thing I've done. There's a long list." Draco raised a brow in inquiry. I smiled. "Maybe some other time I'll tell you." He looked disappointed, but I shrugged. I didn't want to get into it now. He would just have to deal with that.

"Did I not tell you, Tom?" Louis said, gleeful. "People come to Paris to fall in love." He cooed at us. I gave him a tight smile, not really sure why his statement made me so uncomfortable, but I asked,

"Would you play another song for us, Grandfather?" Louis clapped in delight before sitting down, his hands over the ivory keys. **He **played a slow song, at first, but then it erupted into a fast paced and exuberant piece. I absolutely loved it. Draco was an excellent dancer, and he lead me into the dance with out hearts pounding with joy and adrenaline. It was perfect. We twisted and turned all over the parlor, and when it slowed, so did we. Finally the music came to a close, and we found ourselves in the same position as we started.

"That was excellent," I said. "Where did you learn how to play?" I asked as I approached. Draco's hand was within mine, he was standing close to me. He seemed curious as well.

"Oh my dear, when you've been as lonely as I have for years, you pick up on a few things." He smiled. "As I understand it, you three must be leaving soon. You'll write to me, won't you? It's such a shame I never got the chance to see you before. Tom should have allowed you to stay with me than the Muggles, but what's done is done." I glanced at him, wondering why he hadn't, but I supposed it didn't matter. Like Louis had said, what was done was done.

:S:

With everything packed, including my mother's gown, we returned to England some hours later and the Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was waiting for us, along with Severus Snape. Narcissa looked pleased at seeing us together, though Snape didn't. I wondered what his problem was, but it was hard not finding something that troubled him. Or at least annoyed him.

"Hermione dear, you look lovely." Narcissa said as we approached, after bowing to Voldemort. Severus had bowed as well, but it was harder, seeing it from him. She wrapped me in a hug and pressed a kiss to my cheek, and I honestly was surprised by the contact. We had more or less avoided each other before. What was with the sudden change of heart?

I glanced at Draco, who was conversing softly with Snape. Severus had already reported the going ons with Voldemort. I assumed he wanted to see to something himself, as he was no longer there. I wondered, did Draco somehow tell Narcissa already of our date? Or did she already know? Had he consulted her with it before asking? Or had she asked him to?

I pushed the thought aside. Why would she? I could see him asking for advice, but that was it. I was only growing paranoid. I knew Draco would never harm me.

I smiled at Narcissa. "Thank you. You look as beautiful as ever." Narcissa smiled demurely, but I knew it was an act. There was a fierce woman behind her eyes. I could see it, even if I had never witnessed it. She wrapped her arm around my own and led me away from Snape and Draco, who were still talking in hushed tones.

"Come with me, my dear. Draco owled me earlier, seeking my counsel. He wondered how he might approach you. Am I assuming correctly when I say you two are now together?" She asked, not bothering with idle chatter. It was something I could definitely appreciate.

"Well, he did ask me out on a date," I told her honestly.

"Wonderful! Now, you must realize a 'date' by normal standards is not the same as courtship for purebloods. He will not simply go out with you once, but many times, and he will attempt to woo you."

"Woo me?" I asked, nearly alarmed. "For what?"

"Why, engagement my dear." At my astonishment, she placated, "Don't worry. The process is a long one. By the time it has been properly executed it will take until after the both of you have graduated, and of course, we will need our Lord's permission for such a marriage."

"Mrs. Malfoy-"

"Narcissa, dear." I paused, nodded, and continued.

"Narcissa, I do like Draco, but don't you think that talk of engagement is a bit too- sudden? I had only just agreed to go out on one date with him. Besides, what if Draco doesn't want to marry me?"

"He wouldn't have asked if he didn't think it was a good match." Narcissa explained smoothly. "I am only explaining what might happen. If it doesn't go so far, and it is clear the two of you are ill-suited, then you two may part ways and still be friends."

I nodded, still thinking it was a bit much and far too soon. I wondered if she meant to frighten me off with the prospect of marriage. I was just entering my sixth year though, I did think it was too soon to even be thinking of marriage. Especially with a war going on, and my N.E. to think of.

"Thank you for your advice, Narcissa," I said. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Narcissa smiled. "I am always here if you need someone to speak too." I nodded and thanked her, even if she was likely the last person I would ever think to go to. Well, if she meant to frighten me off it wouldn't happen. My relationship with Draco would be dictated by our actions, not outside variables.

I decided to see Snape and see if he needed anything, or if he had another lesson planned for me. He didn't, but I still sat on a stool in his laboratory, far from the equipment. The air was stuffy due to the fumes, but the silence was comforting. I didn't think Snape particularly cared to know what happened while we were in France, but he was curious to know of how I had woken up.

"It was Draco, actually." I told him. I explained what happened and he made no comment, other than,

"You are attached to him."

"I suppose I am. Narcissa already told me Draco was planning on wooing me for marriage."

"That is how pureblood society works. Dating is never casual." He said, venom slightly lacing his words. I wondered what was wrong with him, so I asked.

"You must be careful not to allow Draco harm." I blinked.

"Why would he be harmed?" I asked.

"The Dark Lord is willing to allow you your amusement, maybe he even agrees to the match. Draco is a pureblood after all. However, if Draco does harm you in some way, he won't regret killing him."

"Draco won't harm me, and I won't allow that to happen." Snape snorted.

"No one plans harming another, unless you are under orders." He said. "The best way you can be sure it won't happen, is if word of it does not reach the Dark Lord's ears. Squabbles won't matter to the Dark Lord, but you never know what may happen."

I paused and nodded. It did seem reasonable, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Snape was hiding something. Nevertheless, I agreed to protect Draco. The better option was that we didn't date at all, but I was too selfish to actually follow the thought through. I wanted the relationship.

I wasn't stupid, I knew Draco was handsome, and the only other relationship I had, outside the normal boundaries of friendship, was with Viktor. Besides, Draco was right. We were both intelligent people, and we got along well enough. Who knew? Maybe it could be something more. Besides, I wanted some semblance of normalcy in the life I had. Was it too much to ask? Likely, but I wasn't going to give it up.

"Professor," I said quietly, "do you think it will end up that way?"

"Not if you are opposed to the idea," he said. It was about as good of a response as I was going to get. I thanked him, to which he said nothing, and left him to his work. I sought my natural comfort, the library, when I saw Voldemort with familiar Hogwarts letters in his hands.

Our OWLs had arrived.

* * *

_ -The Magic Library = La bibliothèque magique_

_ -Magic street = Rue magique_

_Correct translations by Nightmare's dephts  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

**Once again, thank you all for your reviews. You have no idea how much I appreciate them. **

Not much editing done with this one. I'll edit later.

* * *

Logically, I knew they hadn't abandoned me. That they would never, ever abandon me. Not if they could help it. Logically, I also knew that they were likely keeping their distance because of Lord Voldemort standing over my shoulder. It only made sense. Logically, I knew that if my family had the potential to be in danger from interacting with a certain someone, I would avoid it like the plague.

But feelings often impede logic, and I couldn't help but feel betrayed by their actions. I was angry that they didn't say anything, that they would watch and leave me with the nightmare of my father. I was angry that they wouldn't even try to intervene. I felt forgotten, even when every day I think of them to try to achieve some sort of peace. I was angry, sad, and heartbroken because it was as if they had abandoned me.

The day started out normally. I woke up and stretched my legs before waking Draco. We had taken up sharing the same bed since Paris. It kept the nightmares at bay and I was comforted by his presence. Voldemort said nothing, though he knew of the arrangement. Nothing remained secret from him for long. I wondered why this was, how he managed to keep a tight control over his people. Fear was the obvious answer. He allowed his people their fun, but when they spiraled out of control, he snapped them back into place by harming their own.

Draco and I chatted a little while I dressed into more appropriate clothing behind the bathroom door, and he came in to brush his teeth and fix his hair when I finished. He was more worried about his appearance than I was.

"So what did you make?" Draco asked me.

"Eleven owls," I told him. "Most were Outstandings."

"What was the one you failed?" Draco teased. I narrowed my eyes.

"I didn't fail, Draco, I just received an Exceeds Expectations rather than Outstanding." Draco laughed and kissed my cheek.

"No need to sound so hurt, Granger. I know you didn't fail." I gave him a sour look.

"You really shouldn't joke about things like that," I told him, switching into what Harry and Ron would call my 'stiff' mode. 'Stiff' because I acted like I had something rammed up my arse. Needless to say, I didn't appreciate it. "It's setting yourself up for failure."

"We've got worse things to worry about than failing our classes. Honestly, do you think that, next year, we'll both be in school? That our O.W.L.s will matter?" I gave him an odd look, but he seemed sincere. There was something earnest in his expression. He needed to hear what I said. But I couldn't understand why he would talk like that. Why wouldn't we both be in school? Was something going to happen?

"Draco, is something wrong?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No, I was just curious, is all." He put up that arrogant facade up again before slipping. Well, it wasn't much of a facade, he really could be an arrogant prick sometimes, but it was more than that with him.

"I don't see why they shouldn't matter." I frowned. "Did you fail a few?" I asked gently. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"As if a Malfoy could achieve anything less than perfection."

I raised a brow. "Well, what did you get?"

"Nine Outstandings, and three Exceeds Expectations."

I grinned, smug that I got better grades than he did. Draco rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. We gazed at our reflections in the mirror. We looked happy, content. Not a care in the world. I closed my eyes and sighed. But there were many cares we carried on our shoulders, and it was evident from the shadows underneath our eyes.

But together, it was as if nothing was wrong. That we didn't have a care in the world, that our nightmares weren't real. Apart, they were. So I resolved to stay with Draco as much as I could. I needed him, and I was confident that he needed me just as much as I did. He helped me shrug on my robes. I turned to him, tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind his ear, smiling. Draco smiled back. He looked so handsome. And yet, so tired, too. Something was wrong. But what, I wondered. Was it something so dark that he could not share it with me?

"I have to report to Snape," I said. The Professor title had seemed to slip lately. It was hard simply seeing him as such. He was my teacher, but he was also my tormenter too.

Draco nodded. He bent down and gave me a lingering kiss on my lips before kissing my cheek.

"Hey," I said, grabbing his arm. "Everything will be alright." I told him. I didn't know what was wrong, but I knew that. Everything would turn out alright in the end. It had too.

"I believe you," he said. He gave me a shorter kiss this time and I headed to Snape's laboratory. He had told me it was going to be a short lesson, so I wasn't expecting an experience like the Morior. We've had lessons after that, but nothing really of note. He fed me more poisons and made me figure out the symptoms and the cures, but because of the Morior I had done an extensive amount of time researching. I read every poison book I could get my hands on. Being in the Malfoy Manor and in my father's own Library, I had an extensive amount of reach.

"Skin those salamanders," Snape said as I stepped inside the room. He was pouring over a potion. "Make sure to wear your gloves." I did as he said and noticed the box he had pointed to. They were alive. I blinked. We had never used live specimen for our potions before. Why now? I glanced at Snape.

At the risk of sounding stupid, I said, "They're alive."

"Very good, Miss Riddle, they're alive. Now do as I tell you." He snapped, his words dripping with venom.

"I can't skin them while they're alive, Professor!"

"You will do as I say or you will tell your father why you refused to obey a command." Snape snarled out.

I gaped at him then turned to the box of squirming salamanders. They were blinking up at me, rigid. I slowly pulled on my gloves and took the offered knife in hand. I reached into the box and did as he asked. They were squealing in pain- could they scream? Or was that simply my imagination? It was like torturing them. I put them into so much pain. It was a slow process, separating the skin from the bodies. Their blood smelled terribly. Snape stared at me when I finished.

"You may go, Miss Riddle." He said. That was it? He just wanted me to skin some salamanders? Why? I threw off my gloves and left the room, leaving him to clean up my mess. There had to be a reason, some sort of deeper meaning behind it, but I couldn't see it. He gave no indication of anything in particular, so what?

:S:

Later in the day, Draco and I arrived in the foyer. Voldemort was waiting for us. He was dressed in casual wizard's clothes and robes, which was surprising. Even more surprising was the fact that he looked very much human. He had brown hair, perfectly combed, and brown eyes. His skin was pale, but not as luminescent as it had been. He looked normal, which was surprising.

"You look nice," I complimented. He gave a smirk but said nothing. We flooed to Borgin and Burkes where Voldemort demanded an item of particular value. Borgin had scrambled to get it, but in his hands was Slytherin's own locket.

"Where did you find it?" I asked. "I thought it had been lost for centuries!"

"I retrieved it when I was younger, it took a great amount of effort to pry it from the stubby woman's fingers." My brow furrowed in curiosity. I wondered whom he was talking about, but he didn't elaborate further as he pocketed the item. My gaze lingered on his pocket, in awe of such a historical artifact for a moment. I wondered who had gotten it, and how Voldemort had taken it from them. Or if he had taken anything else.

"Come," he said. Draco grasped my hand as he led us out the store. I was surprised to see Diagon Alley so empty, so barren. There were few people around and those who were traveled in groups. No one stopped to simply chat. There was fear lingering in their eyes and I could feel Voldemort's pride caused by all the destruction. Ollivander's and Florian's was closed down what seemed like permanently. The other shops weren't doing much better.

I looked at all this destruction in a place that had once been a haven for me, and it strengthened my resolve to stop him. But, how, I didn't really know. We migrated toward Flourish and Blotts and bought our school supplies, and a few other select choices, before deciding to buy new robes from Madam Malkin. It was there I saw the Weasley family and Harry. I made eye contact with Harry and Ron the longest. I wanted to speak with them, to hug and hold them but Voldemort placed a hand on my shoulder, and the warning was clear.

And for that they did nothing. Not even a wave. Was I dead to them? Did they hate me? I was confused but I couldn't let it show. When they walked away, my hope shattered. I continued on, never saying a word. We bought the rest of our supplies and left.

Draco knew I was distraught. I left my bags on the floor without sorting everything out, and I climbed into the bed. Draco soon followed, wrapping his arms around me. I soaked in his comfort like a sponge. I needed it. Above all I wanted my friends not to give up on me, but by their display today, it seemed as if they had.

"They don't hate you," he said, reading my thoughts. "After all the things you three went through together, I doubt Potty and Weasel would give up on you so easily."

"You don't know that," I whispered. "They didn't even say hello."

"You also had the Dark Lord hovering over your shoulder, I doubt it looked welcoming to them." I snorted. Of course it wasn't. Would I have felt welcomed, in their position? No. I would have run like hell.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter what they think, does it? Not when I'm around." He said smugly. I laughed and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I'm the only one whose important."

"Keep pushing it, Malfoy, and you'll find yourself without a girlfriend."

"Oh so that's what you are to me?" He asked. He tapped his chin in thought. He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. I did not trust that look at all. "I thought you were just a pretty broad who warmed my bed."

"That's it!" I exclaimed. I wormed my way out of his grasp and began attacking him- not with my wand, but with my fingers. Draco laughed, squirming underneath me as my fingers danced across his skin, and I couldn't help but giggle too. It didn't last long, though. Draco grasped me by the shoulders and switched our positions. I was staring up at him now while he straddled me, his knees firmly planted by my waist.

We were panting heavily, and I smiled up at him. He grinned back. Merlin he was handsome. I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind his ear and leaned up. His lips met mine. It wasn't very needy of a kiss, nor wanting. Just soft and delicate. When we separated, Draco kept staring at me longer before kissing my forehead and removing himself from my person.

"Come on, Granger," he said. "We've got to get packed. We'll be leaving in a week or so."

"I thought you were going to get your house elf to do it for you?" I asked him, straightening up. He shook his head and shrugged.

"More time I get to spend with you." I smirked.

"That's sweet Malfoy but you and I both know you don't want to." A crack echoed in the room and we both glanced to the young house elf in the room, Kit. Her bid, wide green eyes stared up at as as she announced,

"Mistress 'Mione, t-the Dark L-lord would like to see you in hi-is study." After her message was relayed, Kit disappeared. I sighed, running my fingers through my wild hair. I had hoped to have some peace for the rest of the day, but it was apparent I would not get my wish.

"Go on," Draco said. "I'll wait here for you." I nodded in thanks and went on my way. I passed Bellatrix and Narcissa, who were whispering lowly to themselves. They straightened when they saw me turn the corner. Their behavior was odd. What would they possibly want to hide from me? I narrowed my eyes slightly. I couldn't think of anything. Had it to do with Draco? Unfortunately I came upon Voldemort's study and I couldn't think on it anymore, at least for the moment. I knocked tentatively on his door, and he beckoned me in.

"Hermione, good. I have a gift for you." My first initial reaction was, naturally, shock. Why would Lord Voldemort give me a present? He wasn't a particularly generous man, at least not by normal standards. After all, Voldemort was anything but normal. I eyes narrowed in suspicion. Why would he give me a present? Was there something he wanted? What could I possibly have that he wanted? Information? I doubted it. Snape was his spy, not me. Something else, then?

He retrieved Slytherin's locket and held it out for me to take. I hesitated. I knew I couldn't refuse it, it would anger him and something bad would happen. Likely it was Draco who would suffer, and indirectly me.

"No need to be wary, Hermione. This is simply a gift simply from a father to his daughter." Now I really was suspicious. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! He didn't do anything without an agenda in mind. But what could a necklace possibly serve him for? Did it hold some sort of charm? Of protection or one of obedience?

Gingerly I took the locket in my hands. I gave him a nod of thanks, unable to speak. It was pulsing in my hands. Something was very, very wrong with the necklace. It was practically alive! But it was an inanimate object, how could it be alive?

"Put it on," he ordered.

"I'm about to take a bath," I said, trying to dissuade him. "I couldn't possibly put it on now, it'll damage the locket." However, he saw right through my lie and glowered. He pointed his wand at me, a curse on his lips, but I rushed to put it on. I did not want to feel the Cruciatus again. Voldemort gave a smirk.

"Very good. Take care of it, _Solethyn_." I nodded. With a wave of his hand he dismissed me, and I left immediately. The necklace pulsed with my heartbeat as I rushed to my room. Something was very wrong with it. I didn't understand what was going on, I hadn't heard of such a thing. It was an inanimate object, it didn't have a pulse. It shouldn't have a pulse. But this one did. It was likely very dark magic, but what, I didn't know. I needed to see Snape. He might know.

I opened my bedroom door where Draco was lying down on my bed, reading a book. My things were scattered across the floor with his, our robes hanging in midair. I didn't have time to pack right now, not when the thing was on my neck.

"Do you know if Snape is still here?" I asked him hurriedly. Snape came often, but never stayed for long unless to work on potions Voldemort requested specifically. I didn't know much about them to be honest, for I never asked. I didn't want to know.

"Uncle Severus?" Draco asked, peering over the book. "I think he went back home."

I cursed under my breath. Draco sat up in the bed and gave me a quizzical look. "Is something wrong?" I approached him and showed him the necklace.

"Hold it," I told him. He grasped the necklace in his hand. He winced as it pulsed, and he took his hand away immediately. My heart hammered against my chest along with it. "Did you feel it?" I asked urgently.

"It's beating," he said. "Like a heart. It's not supposed to do that, is it?" I shook my head. I was incredibly nervous. I didn't like being forced to wear it. It was powerful enough already, being Slytherin's locket, but with added enchantments unknown to me, I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all.

_Obviously not. _"I don't know! It's likely to be dark magic, knowing my father, and that means something is very, very wrong with it. Professor Snape is the only one I trust to ask. Surely he would, of all people, know what it meant?" I said, distressed. I didn't like the feeling it gave me.

"You could ask Aunt Bella," Draco offered, standing. I gave an irritated snort. Of course I wouldn't want to ask her, the bloody twit. She's a lunatic, and if I did ask she would surely mention it to Voldemort.

_Useless idiot. Can he do anything other spout off bad ideas?_"Of course, she's the best solution! After all, she's only the Dark Lord's most loyal fanatic, and insane to boot. Think logically, Draco!" My words were harsh, and I winced. Draco's eyes narrowed.

"I don't like that. I think it's affecting your mood. It's magically altered, that's for certain. Take the necklace off." He ordered. I brushed my irritation aside as I reached up and grabbed the clasp, but as I began to undo it, it slid out of my hands. I tried again, and it ended with the same result. I tried it again and again, but it wouldn't give. And it wasn't me, either. It was the necklace, it refused to come off my neck.

"It won't bloody well come off!" I cried, desperate. "It keeps on sliding out of my hands!"

"Here," Draco said. "Let me try." I pulled my lion's mane of hair to the side as Draco took the chain in his hands. He growled out in frustration. "This isn't good," he said. "I can't undo it." _Idiot!_

"No shit, Sherlock!" I said. I blushed and covered my mouth. I was just so frustrated. This wasn't right.

Draco gave me an odd look before he grasped my hand. "Come on, we're going to see Uncle Severus."

"But my father-"

"We'll be back before they notice." Draco reassured. I hoped he was right, but I didn't have the luxury at that moment. I didn't trust Voldemort enough not to lie about the necklace, and I certainly didn't want to raise suspicion, either. Snape was my only option, and unlike Voldemort, and despite everything, I trusted him. If only a little.

:S:

We knocked on Snape's door at Spinner's End, as Draco had explained. It was a dreary sort of place. The buildings were far too close together and the entire atmosphere was too gloomy for my tastes, but it almost suited the man who lived here. Which, in itself, I found rather sad.

Snape opened the door, surprised to see us, and ushered us in. When he closed the door he was glowering at the both of us. I took a step back.

"Professor I need your help-" I began. Snape held up a hand and glanced over to a nearby door way. Wormtail was peeking out of the hall, looking as ragged and ugly as when I first saw him. He waved his wand and Wormtail was blasted into the next room. Another wave and the door shut. Snape muttered muffliato underneath his breath, and I blushed. I didn't think...

"Fools! Did you not think that the Dark Lord would not have spies everywhere? Use that brain your so well known for something other than academics Miss Riddle or we'll all be dead within the month!" He snapped.

"I'm sorry-" Draco cut me off.

"Hermione needs your help, Uncle Severus! The Dark Lord gave her a necklace, and, Uncle, it's alive." Snape's eyes narrowed. He gave him an odd look but then turned to me. I raised the necklace for him to see. He took it in his hand and it gave a powerful pulse. Snape quickly withdrew, much like Draco had.

"You see?" I said. "And- and it won't come off, either. My father must have put a charm on it. Every time I try, it slides out of my hands. Draco tried as well, and it was the same."

Snape pursed his lips, deep in thought. Draco gave my hand a slight squeeze. I did the same and he smiled. "Give me a few days." Snape said. "I will return to the manor when possible. Do not approach me, Hermione. Now leave."

"That's it?" Draco demanded. "This thing is affecting her mood as well, Uncle, we need to get it off of her now."

"The Dark Lord bound it to her aura. The locket won't come off until he undoes the spell himself." Snape snarled out. "Now get out." I nodded and pulled Draco along with me. We apparated back to the manor and, as Draco had hoped, no one had noticed our absence.

Or so we thought.

That night, Voldemort called a meeting for all his Death Eaters. The sort that was supposed to raise morale. There was really only one way to raise morale for Death Eaters, a grand, eloquent speech, and a raid on a muggle town. One we only had the honor to be a part of.

"My Death Eaters," Voldemort said as we had finally come together. "It has been too long since we heard the cry of Muggle children, the sobbing of their pathetic parents, the pleading of wretched souls unworthy of our ears." He grinned. "It is time for another raid, do you not agree?" He asked. The large array of Death Eaters cried out in agreement, a cacophony of cheering and shouts of approval. I glanced at Draco. He met my gaze, and it was clear he was uneasy. So was I. I wondered if he knew. My attention turned to Voldemort, and he was smirking at me. Yes. He knew. I pursed my lips. I wanted to look at Snape, to garner his reaction, but I refused to give Voldemort the benefit. It didn't matter if he knew. I wouldn't be the one to give it away.

"My daughter and Draco are in dire need of education on how this works, my loyal followers. Shall we teach them?" They cried out a roar of agreement, a few going so far as clapping us on the back. They thought of it as a reward. Only Draco and I knew it was a punishment.

"Very well. Ipswich, I have decided, is the best choice. Have fun." He dismissed us, and they apparated out of the home at once. Snape grabbed our shoulders, and we apparated via Side-Along. I felt the familiar pull of my insides and we landed in the middle of the street. Pure chaos surrounded us. The Death Eaters were running around everywhere, and so were muggles. They were flying in the air and running from the cloaked and hooded Death Eaters. None of their faces could be seen.

Snape surged forward and I decided it was best to follow him. Draco seemed to think the same thing, but we didn't expect what came next. We came upon a Muggle home, blue, the garden finely decorated. Snape set it to fire and blasted the front door open. No one was on the first floor, we checked, but when we came upon the second we found a family of four, huddled together. A young mother clutched her child, her husband beside her, and a young girl, huddled between them. She had brown hair and brown eyes, wide in shock and fear. The fear was dancing in their eyes. I turned to Snape.

"We can't seriously do this," I said. "We can't-" I stopped. I finally understood why he had told me to skin the Salamanders. If I couldn't harm innocent animals, I could never harm innocent human beings. He was judging me. And I hated him for it.

"Get out of the way, girl, and watched how it's done. Boy!" He said, turning to Draco, "Separate the mother from her child. Do it!" He had his wand pointed at the man. "_Crucio_," Snape hissed. The man cried out in pain, his screams echoing in the room. I stepped back, leaning against the wall for support. The little girl whimpered and the babe began to cry. Draco hesitated. I pleaded with him not to do it, but he did as Snape asked. He grabbed the baby and the woman fought him off.

"No!" She cried out, clutching her child. Draco pulled out his wand and fired at her. She threw back and hit the wall, a sickening crack echoing in my ears. I whimpered. The little girl ran up and screamed for her mother to wake up, but she wouldn't. She would never wake up. I couldn't bear to watch, but I couldn't look away, either. Snape ended the curse with the man. He sobbed, writhing in pain and the knowledge that his wife would never wake up. The knowledge that he couldn't protect his family, that he had failed as a husband and a father. I couldn't imagine what was going through his mind. I sent my heart out to him, but it was worse, because I was part of it.

"A taste of what you'll receive if you interfere," he snarled out. "Girl! Use your wand on the child. Do it!" He ordered. I hesitated. He repeated the command, and I knew I had no choice in this. If I ran, what would happen? They'd report it to my father, and if he found out, he would torture me and Draco. And Draco might die. I cried but I did as he said. I pointed my wand at the little girl and whispered, "_Crucio_." I had to. I had to to keep Draco safe. It wasn't right, but I needed Draco. It was a harsh thought, but the little girl meant nothing to me. Except maybe my sanity.

She screamed, but it didn't hurt as much it would had I truly meant it. It didn't matter. The little girl was suffering. In the corner of my eye, I saw the father get up and rush at me. "_Sectumsempra!_" Snape called out. He fell to the floor as his body was mutilated, blood pouring from the wounds that appeared, scattered across his body. If he wasn't treated soon, he would die.

Snape overlooked the man coldly, watching as his blood poured to the floor. The baby was screaming in Draco's arms. I couldn't handle it. The necklace was throbbing with my own heartbeat, pounding against my chest. My head was swimming in the screams, I couldn't make anything out. The room was a blur, but the children screaming, I still heard it. I herd the cries of the muggles outside, I felt the heat of the fire. I felt the thrill of it. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, I felt elated and I wanted more. More torture, more blood. The stench of burning flesh, the taste of their tears. I wanted it all.

But it was so wrong! I shouldn't want that. What was going on? The necklace- the necklace! It- no, it was affecting my mind. It had to be. I would never dream of such things, I would never take such pleasure from so much suffering. Tears poured from my eyes and I dropped my wand. I stepped back. The little girl whimpered softly.

Snape silenced them both, the girl and the babe, with an Avada. The room shined green for a few moments. He grabbed me by the neck and ordered Draco to pick up my wand. He dragged me out of the streets, Draco following, the dead baby still in his arms. He was as shocked as I was.

"Leave it," he hissed. "Back in the home. Now!" Draco nodded, running back inside. Snape grabbed my face and slapped me across the face. I winced, but it seemed to do the trick. I snapped back into reality, and he glared at me with his cold, dead eyes. "This is war, Miss Riddle. You will do well to get along with it if you hope to survive." He said harshly.

Snape threw me down into the ground and I stumbled back. Draco knelt beside me and pulled me up. We were both crying. I wiped his eyes and he wiped mine. We had to be strong. The night was still young. We had to get through this, whatever the cost. It didn't matter that we would lose every part of ourselves committing the crimes we were about to commit, our goal was, above all, survival. Sometimes you had to do things you would never normally do to achieve that.

"Draco, Hermione!" Bellatrix called to us. I recognized her voice, sending a shudder down my spine. "Come on! This is such fun- we have a couple of muggle filth in need of some torture. Not with magic, mind, with a blade. It's just as satisfying, feeling their blood on your hands, and knowing you caused their pain..." Her eyes glinted behind her mask, her voice gleeful. She took my hand and dragged me along to the burning home, a stasis spell on the room to protect us from the fire.

The muggles, two men, were restrained by some rope and gagged with their own socks. Bellatrix dropped my hand and handed me the blade. Draco stood beside me, supportive as ever, but we both knew what we had to do. I shut my emotions down, buried my morals, just for the night. I'd never condone this sort of behavior, but I had to get through the night without letting anyone know how torn I was. If I didn't, people I loved would be harmed. I didn't want that.

"Go on," Bellatrix urged. "Go on, girl! Prove you are your father's daughter!"

_Forgive me_, I begged them. I remember their screaming, Bellatrix mad laughter, and Draco's whimpering. I don't remember much else.

* * *

**Changes in this chapter:**

**No reaction from Harry/Weasleys.**

**Bit more interaction between Draco and Hermione**

**Snape knows something is off! **

**Death Eater Raid. **

**Changes in Previous chapters I forgot to add:**

**Hermione was impiriused.**

**She killed her parents. (le gasp!)**

**She almost jumped off the Eiffel tower.**

**Draco woke up from her Bella-state LOL. **

**She got a pretty dreeess. **

**Hermione knows something is up with Draco, but hasn't asked. She wants to see where everything is going.**

**Info on Voldemort/Antoinette's relationship. (Hermione's mother.)**


	9. Chapter 9

_All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

**Once again, thank you all for your reviews. You have no idea how much I appreciate them. **

* * *

_"Please visit me immediately after your arrival, Miss Riddle, we have much to discuss._

_ P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops. _

_-Albus Dumbledore."_

I crumpled the note with Professor Dumbledore's loopy scrawl in my fist_, _my lips pursed. _  
_

"Pansy's pissed," Draco said as he entered the compartment. Pansy didn't really concern me. She just didn't understand the things that we had been through together. No one would ever understand. The trials we faced brought us closer together, and no one, especially Pansy, was going to take him from me. The necklace I wore throbbed against my skin, hidden behind my clothes. I closed my eyes, taking in a large breath of air, and exhaling in smooth, rhythmic patterns. I was unusually possessive when Draco flashed through my thoughts, which he often did. Draco and I attributed most of it to the necklace, but it wasn't entirely fake. I did think of him as mine.

I wasn't alone in the compartment. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were with me. Crookshanks, whom I missed terribly, was purring on my lap. He had missed me just as much it seemed. Ron's eyes narrowed_. _Whatever he was going to say wasn't going to be good. I had just finished telling them that I was with Draco, actually with him, and not just friends.

"We're needed by the Head Boy and Head Girl in twenty minutes," he interjected before Ron could say anything. I was inwardly grateful for his maturity in the situation. He knew how much they meant to me. "That means you too, Weasel." His lips curled into a snarl. "Though how you ever came to be a prefect I have no idea. The old man was delusional, surely." So much for maturity. Draco sat down beside me leisurely, as if it was his compartment. Ginny scooted closer to her brother, giving his feet, shining in new shoes, a look of disgust. I gave Draco a long, hard look.

"Draco!" I admonished. "Ron's a perfectly good prefect, he's helped Harry just as much as I have."

"Cause trouble, maybe," he said as our fingers entwined. I glowered. "Honestly, the three of you together are the worst troublemakers in the history of Hogwarts."

"I highly doubt that," I said. "Fred and George are much better at it."

"We're right here, you know," Harry said heatedly. "No need to talk about us as if we aren't."

"I'm sorry Harry." I apologized. "I don't mean to."

"So it's true then?" Ginny asked. Her eyes danced between the two of us together, and then to our entwined fingers. "You two are actually together?"

"Is it so hard to believe, Weaslette?" I jabbed him with my elbow. He winced, glaring at me. It wasn't all that genuine, though. I could see that, but from Ginny's worried glances, I knew she couldn't tell. I would have to explain to her later, I decided. Share as much as I could. But first, I had to speak to Dumbledore. It would be nice to know what I could, in fact, share.

"Considering only last year you were calling her a mudblood, yes it is, actually." Ginny replied, harsh.

Draco sighed. "Yes, we're together. We have been for a few months."

"And are you happy together?"

Draco hesitated and so did I. We shared a long look. I can't remember exactly what I thought about, but I knew that happy wasn't exactly the word for it. I needed him. He was mine. There was nothing else other than that. And I was content, that was true. I settled for a smile.

"We're as happy as we can be, for the moment." I told her truthfully. The train lurched slightly and Crookshanks fell to the floor. Draco and Ron shared a laugh, but stopped when they realized what was going on. I rolled my eyes. I turned to Harry and Ron, asking lightly,

"So how was your summer?"

"We were worried sick about you," Harry said. "I told the Weasleys when Fred and George asked after you. I didn't want to say anything, but they insisted." He shrugged.

"You should have trusted us Hermione," Ron scolded. "We would have understood."

"Are you so sure of that, Ron?" I asked. "Because if I remember correctly, you went ballistic when you found out I was going to the Yule ball with Viktor. I could only imagine how you would react once you found out who my father was."

His cheeks and ears went red. "Well if you-"

"This isn't the time or place," Ginny intervened. "Look, you guys have to go to the Prefect cabin, remember?"

"Right." I smiled. "Thanks Ginny. See you, Harry." Harry nodded and I gave Ginny a hug before the three of us shuffled out of the compartment.

:S:

After we arrived at the station I noticed Pansy looking around for us. She had her wand in her hand and looked absolutely livid. I winced as she approached, her wand pointed at me and glaring.

"You are such a lying whore!" She cried out, in tears. "You told me you didn't like him! You lied to me!"

"Pansy," I said softly, "I didn't mean to-" I sighed. "Look, when I told you that I hadn't been lying. It just sort of happened."

"How?" Pansy asked me. "How did it happen? Dammit I have a right to know!" By now were causing a scene, and many people began to surround us, staring. The were whispering because Draco was still holding my hand, and I hadn't bothered to let go. I didn't want to. And what did it matter if they found out now? They would have found out eventually. I just wish it wasn't like this.

"It was in Paris," I said. "I-" I glanced around. "I wasn't myself. Draco helped me through it, and that's when it happened."

"Yeah right," Pansy scoffed. "You just wanted him from the start. You'll rue the day you took him from me, Hermione!" With that she whirled around and pushed through the still whispering crowd.

"Should I be scared?" I asked Draco. Draco sighed.

"Considering how well I know her? I'd say yes. But you've been through worse than her worst, so I think you'll be alright." He smirked beside me. "Besides, you have me to protect you." I laughed and we made our way to the gates.

:S:

As Dumbledore had requested, I parted ways with Draco when we reached the Gargoyle staircase. I whispered the password and ascended the stairs, knocking on the oak doors when I reached them. Dumbledore bid me entrance, muffled by the door between us. I steadily turned the handle, almost afraid of what would greet me on the other end. I took a deep breath and pushed it open, quietly shutting it behind me.

Dumbledore had a very serious look about him. There was no twinkle in his eye, no hidden smile beneath his beard. He didn't smile, and he didn't offer her a lemon drop. He didn't do any of his normal things, and it had me worried. Then again, I was worried to begin with.

"Take a seat, Miss Riddle." I sat down languidly, keeping my eyes on him as he himself sat behind his desk. He folded his hands, one was withered and green. I frowned. Withered and green? There were few poisons that could cause such a reaction from the body. Snape had gone over with me once. The cursed appendage's skin cells slowly begin to die and blood stops flowing to the area. Meanwhile, the nerve endings in the appendage, in this case Dumbledore's hand, are on fire. But what was the poison called? "You must realize the position I am in, Miss Riddle." Dumbledore sighed. My gaze met his own.

"Perhaps when you first arrived to Hogwarts I should have prevented the friendship that formed between you and Mr. Potter. However, I quickly realized that a friendship with you could only be beneficial. Even at a young age, you were assertive and intelligent enough to make sure they did their homework and passed the school year," he said. He gave an attempt of a smile, but I didn't return it.

"Harry is important to this war, you know this as well as I. I will do my best, as I always have, to keep him from harm." His eyes turned cold and penetrating. He was staring into my soul, piercing me with his gaze. "Can I rest assured you pose no danger to him?" He demanded from me. I gave a solemn and firm nod.

"Harry is like a brother to me," I told him. "I won't follow my father." Despite my word, Dumbledore didn't seem convinced.

"And, you do desire to stop Tom, do you not?" Frustrated, I threw my hands up in the air. Why didn't he trust me? _He never has, _something whispered to me in my ear. _He never gave you a choice. He is no better than your father. Manipulative, controlling. Every aspect of your life was controlled by him, so you did not become another Dark Lord. He never gave you a chance to prove yourself. _

He doesn't know what I've been through, I reasoned. He doesn't know how much I hate Voldemort, now more than ever before. Would I have given myself a choice, if I had been in his shoes? Wouldn't I want to prevent a war from happening twice? _Not much good he did, did he? Voldemort still came back, and he didn't protect you from it. He didn't protect you like he did Harry. _Right, because it was Harry who lived in a loving home with a loving family. I was the one with the abusive parents. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes.

"Professor," I said, "I'm not going to join with my father. You have no idea- you have no idea what he has done to me. What I have had to do because of him. I harbor no feelings of love for him. I do not admire anything about him, except maybe his intellect," I amended. Because that was something to be admired about him, if nothing else. "Harry is my best friend, and I will always choose him over Voldemort."

"Tell me about your summer, Miss Riddle." It wasn't a request. I closed my eyes. _He's manipulating you, _something told me. _He doesn't trust you. He never has, never will. Do not trust him. _But this was Professor Dumbledore. He has always looked after us, the students. He has always helped us when we were in need of it. If he couldn't help me, then no one could. And for him to help me, I needed to trust him.

I relayed to him the events from the summer, after I arrived at my parent's old house. At first it was easy to talk about it, I kept eye contact with Dumbledore the entire time, but then it cam upon the moment when I killed Rowle. Dumbledore did not seemed to shocked at all. I faltered.

"You know already." I said softly. "You know already. Professor Snape told you."

"Yes. But I must hear it from you." He said. I took a deep breath and nodded, continuing on. I left out nothing. I told him my feelings on the matter, my suspicions, everything. I told him about talking to my parents after killing Rowle, how I had read about the splitting of souls in a library book and telling my parents about it, Draco helping me through my doldrums. When I was finally finished, I waited in silence.

"And the necklace, Severus mentioned you could not remove it from your person." Dumbledore said. I nodded. I hesitated before revealing my suspicions about it.

"It's... been whispering things to me, lately." I told him softly. At his momentary surprise, I continued. "At least, I'm pretty sure it is the necklace, because it's the only thing I can attribute to the whispering. It pulses like a heart, as if it's alive. So, what is to stop it from one more human act?"

"And what does the necklace say?" Dumbledore asked, curious. He didn't act like I was crazy, he didn't talk down to me like a child. He really believed me.

"Terrible things," I said. "Mostly, it tries to turn me against you and the Order, and especially Harry. It plays on my weaknesses. Particularly of the past summer."

"This is curious..." He said. "May I see it?" I nodded. I pulled it from where it rested against my heart, holding it for Dumbledore to see. It glinted in the light, scattering golden squares across the room. "You must hold onto it," he said. "Undoubtedly, if it involves your father, it is of Dark Magic. I believe I might already be on the right track. For now, I must advise Occlumency lessons."

"Occlumency lessons?" I questioned. "You mean like you asked Professor Snape to teach Harry?"

"Yes. It will help you block out the necklace while I figure out a way to remove it from your person. Then, we must destroy it."

"Destroy it?" I asked. Dumbledore nodded, and he began pacing across the room. I followed him with my eyes, frowning, trying to understand his own thoughts. I highly doubted it. If I couldn't understand Voldemort's mind I would never understand Dumbledore. And then, Dumbledore said he would try to remove it. But, how could he when it was Voldemort who bound it to me? Well, if anyone could do it, it would be Dumbledore.

"You do wish to destroy Tom, do you not?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Of course I do."

"Then trust in me, Miss Riddle." He gave me a real smile for the first time that day. I smiled back. "Now, for your lessons. I will arrange them with Professor Snape, and they should begin immediately. You will have to arrange your schedule around them and your prefect duties, of course, but I have the utmost trust you can handle it. You will also be taking lessons with me. Now, that should be everything."

"About what, Professor?" I asked.

"We shall see," he said. "Speak nothing of it to anyone," he advised. "Not even Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy. Do you understand?" I didn't, but I nodded anyway.

:S:

I made it down to the Great Hall in time for the first years to make their own entrance, and Dumbledore soon followed. I sat between Harry and Ron and glanced over to the Slytherin table. Draco was watching me, smirking. I smiled back, but that was when I noticed Pansy glowering at me. I raised an eyebrow at her before returning my attention to the first years, clapping when a few joined our table.

"So, Mione," Ginny began. I continued filling my plate, wondering what she was about to ask. I really hoped it wasn't anything too personal- like my summer. Or worse, my relationship with Draco. "What is it you see in him?"

"See in who?" Lavender asked, butting into our conversation. I glowered at the both of them- Ginny at least looked a bit sheepish, but Lavender was unperturbed. "Is Hermione seeing someone?"

"You didn't see them earlier, at the station?" Parvati asked. I wondered what took them so long to discuss it. Now, of all times, seemed hardly appropriate. Still, it wasn't like I wanted to hide my relationship with Draco. It might be best, but it was a little late for that regardless. I took a bit of he chicken, ignoring them for the moment. Unsurprisingly, Harry and Ron were listening in as well. They weren't apart of the crowd earlier.

"No! What happened? Who?" Lavender asked. Parvati didn't bother to whisper, and it seemed like everyone at the Gryffindor table were peering in on the conversation. Some from Ravenclaw, too.

"Pansy was accusing Hermione of stealing Draco from her!" Parvati said. "Hermione mentioned something about going to Paris with Malfoy-"

"Is it true?" Lavender asked, her eyes glittering with anticipation.

"I didn't steal Draco, if that's what you're asking," I said honestly. "He was never with Pansy."

"But you are with him?" She pressed. The table held their breath with anticipation.

"Yes," I replied. "We are." The table was in an uproar. They were hollering, wondering how I could possibly date a Slytherin, especially one who had insulted and tortured fellow Gryffindors. That I wouldn't answer. They had no right to know why I dated him. They would see us together anyway, it didn't matter. I glanced at Draco and gave an exasperated look. He stood, having finished his meal I'm guessing, and meandered his way over to our table, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at us.

"Potty, Weasel. I shouldn't be surprised to see you two here," he said, as if they hadn't seen each other in the compartment. "I thought I smelled something foul." I groaned, hiding behind my hands. Of course Draco would come over here. Of course he wanted to insult Harry and Ron, putting me in a bad position. Dammit all, I wasn't going to take it from him.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're the Ferret here, Malfoy. Or do you want a reminder of our fourth year?"

Draco snarled. "Whatever. I didn't come over here to speak to trash."

"Why don't you leave us alone, Ferret? No one wants you here." Ron said, rushing to Harry's defense.

"I think Hermione wants me here, don't you?" He said. I glowered at him.

"You're rubbing our relationship in their faces, so no, I don't want you here." I replied.

"Oh Hermione, I'm hurt," he mocked. He gave a smile though. I knew he was only teasing me. But when he insulted Harry and Ron... well, what did I expect? For him to suddenly change his attitude toward my friends? I doubted it. If anything, he would resolve to torture them more. I pursed my lips so I didn't smile back. Draco leaned over and captured my lips in his, an intense kiss that we hadn't shared before. It was full of passion and need. I was caught by surprise by it, but it wasn't unwelcome. Draco pulled back and winked as he sauntered off, arrogant. People whispered all around me and my cheeks flushed red.

"Oh Hermione!" Lavender squealed. "I never knew you had it in you- going for the bad boys. Lucky girl," she winked. I stood up and promptly told her to shut it.

"Well, it looks like it is going to be an eventful year," Professor Dumbledore said, amused. His eyes were twinkling, and I could see he wasn't as troubled by our actions as much as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were. They looked absolutely livid. We were both getting an earful, I imagined, after the feast was over. "Now that our bellies our full it is time for bed. First years, please follow your house Prefects, if you please. For Gryffindor, they are Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, for Ravenclaw..." he continued on and each of us stood when he called our names.

I directed the first years to the Fat Lady along with Ron trailing behind us, stated the password, and watched as they filed inside. It was always amusing to watch first years take in Hogwarts. I knew I was much of the same way when I had first arrived. The Fat Lady shut her portrait behind us, and I cleared my throat.

"A moment, if you please," I said. Twenty two wide eyes stared up at me in awe and wonder, curiosity, and mild annoyance. I cleared my throat. "Professor McGonagall will be here in a few moments to speak with you, but I just wanted to let you know that if you are ever in need of anything that you feel you can't go to the Professors for in fear of embarrassment, you can always come to Ron and I."

"Better come to me though," Ron said, leaning back and grinning. Harry plopped down on the seat beside him. "Hermione doesn't ever break the rules, so if it's of a delicate nature, come to the brother of the owners of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." I scowled, but I couldn't suppress a smile. The first years whispered, watching him. I bet they had visited Weasley's Wizard Wheezes during their trip to Diagon Alley. "

"We're supposed to uphold the rules, Ronald." I teased. Ron snorted.

"You do enough of that for the both of us, 'Mione," he told me. I grinned. It was like nothing had changed between us.

"Yes, well, the girl's dormitories are to your right, and the boy's to your left," I smiled brightly at them. "Your trunks are already there waiting for you when you get to bed. I advise an early rest, for your day tomorrow will be an exciting one."

"Don't listen to her, she's just knocking you around. Tomorrow we don't do a thing but tour the grounds for a scavenger-"

"Mr. Weasley if I hear you misleading the first years once more, I will be forced to repeal your prefect badge." McGonagall said as she entered. She looked down at the first years and continued, "I advise listening to Miss Granger, here, for academic advise. She is the brightest witch of her age," McGonagall praised. "Now, onto business..."

:S:

Draco and I had prefect duties that night, and we were on patrol together. If it wasn't for the fact that everyone knew how seriously I took my prefect duties, I doubted they would have let us patrol together. By now it was around the school that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were, in fact, dating, and that they were, really, truly serious about it. We were also having our first argument, however one-sided. I was ignoring Draco as he tried to plead with me. I was angry about his treatment of my friends, and he was angry that I wouldn't just dump them.

"They're obviously telling you to dump me," Draco said vehemently, "so I don't see why I shouldn't say the same." He told me.

"Are they, Draco?" I asked him, feigning surprise. "Because I don't remember mentioning it. In fact, I'm positive I haven't heard anything like that from Harry and Ron. They don't like you, obviously, but they haven't breathed a word against my dating you. So, that would mean you're assuming a whole hell of a lot, doesn't it?" I snapped, turning to him. I paused, hands on my hips. Draco raised his hands in defense.

"Look, alright, I'm assuming a lot," he admitted. "But it ticks me off thinking how I might lose you because of them." I sighed.

"Draco, look. Harry, Ron and I... we've been through a lot. There hasn't been a school year yet where a bad thing doesn't happen to at least one of us, and we're always going to stand by Harry's side when it comes to Voldemort." He winced at Voldemort's name, but I ignored it. "But you and I have been through a lot too, and I'm sure I wouldn't be standing here without you." I shrugged and smiled. "You really don't have anything to worry about."

"That's assuring." Draco mumbled. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers in mine, hidden by our robes. The rest of our rounds was uneventful. I went back to Gryffindor's tower and he slithered off back to his dungeons, and I laid down on my bed, thinking of how wonderful it was to be back at Hogwarts. Crookshanks was curled at the foot of my bed. I closed my eyes and breathed in steadily, taking in the silence, before sleep finally found me.

I was greeted by the sweet kisses of nightmares.

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An extra update! Don't you guys just loooove me? :D I'm trying to get the ball rolling here...


	10. Chapter 10

_Once again, everything recognized belongs to J.K. Rowling. Anything else, like the minor plot, is of my own creation._

**Thank you so much for your support, guys, you know how much I appreciate it. One thing I didn't like about the old version was the lack of classes. So, be warned. Canon classes, with a few alterations, is present. **

**On a side note, we're almost to two hundred reviews!**

* * *

In my nightmare, I was looking upon a dark, murky sea. I was standing upon a jagged rock, slippery because the sloshing water, barely six inches wide. The sky was midnight black, with only a moon to light my gaze.

The sea receded into itself, leaving four forms on the bank. They were pale and translucent, their bodies skinny, frail, and naked. Their bones protruded from their skin. It was a horrifying sight, but worse, when I realized who they were.

My mum and my dad, and the two men I had tortured that night in Ipswich. They glared at me accusingly, reaching forward with their scraggly limbs and curled fingers. My mother opened her mouth and I screamed. Her mouth was full of blood and bile.

"You did this to us," she gurgled. "You hurt us, you killed us!" She rasped out accusingly. She grabbed onto my ankle, and try as I might I could not kick her off. I slipped and fell onto my back, my head cracking against the stone floor.

"No, no! It wasn't my fault! I had no choice!" I screamed back. My dad grasped my limb while the other men grabbed my foot and arm. They were pulling me, I realized. Pulling me into the ocean. I thrashed about wildly, trying to free myself from their grip. But they were just so strong, I couldn't break free, no matter how much I tried.

"No, please, please!" I sobbed. "I had no choice, they forced me to do it. I didn't want to kill any of you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

But they didn't hear my please. They spoke in unison, chanting of my guilt, accusing me of the crimes we all knew I committed. I sobbed, having given up my fight. I just let them take me into the ocean, to drown myself in my sorrows. I wanted to die for the things I had done, for the acts of violence on people who did not, and would never, deserve it. It was a very violation against nature.

I was fully succumbed in water. In my head they still chanted. I could not see them, but I felt more hands grab me. Had I harmed them, too? Had I killed them somehow, if indirectly? How many lives did my actions take? How many more would they, and could I live with myself through it all?

Just then, a blinding light filtered through the water. The bodies screamed in pain, letting go of me and seeking shelter in darker waters. A hand darted through the water and grabbed my own, pulling me up onto blessed land. I coughed out the water I had swallowed and breathed in for dear life. When I had regained my composure, I stared up at my savior.

He was my father.

:S:

"Hermione! Hermione?" Lavender cried out. I pried my eyes open, sucking in air as if my life depended on it. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil hovered over me, worry dancing in their eyes and exhaustion shining underneath. I must have screamed in my sleep and woke them. I felt guilty for disrupting their sleep, I should have silenced the area around me so they wouldn't have heard it. It must be early.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Parvati asked.

"You were screaming in your sleep. Something about..." she trailed off, glancing over at her best friend. "You said something about not meaning to... kill them."

I shook my head. "Sorry, just a bad dream. Thanks for waking me up. Go back to sleep Lavender, Parvati." They nodded and shuffled back to their four poster beds, but not before giving me one last look of worry. I closed off my bed and sat there until I heard their soft snoring, before opening up the curtains and slipping on my slippers and robes. I hadn't had a nightmare since Draco and I shared a bed, but I couldn't go down into the dungeons at, I checked my clock, three in the morning.

I sighed. Draco would have made me feel better. I missed him. I missed him holding me to keep the nightmares at bay. And if they did happen, then he would have snogged me senseless so I would be thoroughly, and enjoyably, distracted. Then we would sleep again, and everything would be alright. I needed to get back to sleep, though, but I couldn't. I made my way down to the common room, the fire flaring up for me as I entered. It was completely empty, due to the late hour, so I sat down in the large armchair in front of the fire.

Yawning, I tucked my feet beneath me. I really needed some sleep. Crookshanks hopped onto my lap and purred, demanding of attention and uncaring of what problems I had. I quickly obliged him, running my hands through his soft fur. Ginny had told me he'd been a bit thin when he arrived at the Burrow, a long distance away from my former home, but Mrs. Weasley had fixed that immediately. They'd heard of my disappearance long before Harry had told them of my whereabouts. It'd been in the Prophet, apparently, but had been quickly "corrected" and a journalist fired a day later.

"I need to sleep, Crooks," I said. "But I'm afraid of what might wait for me there." The cat meowed helpfully and insisted I pet him more. I scratched behind his ears, he crooked his neck to the side so I got a better angle.

I stared at the dancing fire for a little while longer before standing up, cradling Crookshanks in my arms before he mrrowed in protest and jumped down. I rolled my eyes and made my way out of the portrait hole, holding my robes closer to my body. It was really cold, and the halls were, thankfully, desolate of any lingering students. Most students who were out late would have returned already. My goal, however, was not to look for students out late in the night. I could hardly do so when I wasn't even supposed to be on rounds.

I made my way to the kitchens, tickling the pair and walking in to find a table already set out with food. The occupant, to my surprise and great relief, was Draco. He looked about as rested as I was. His face, one of worry, bloomed into surprise and then a smile. I pulled up a chair beside him.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked. I nodded slightly, taking an offered hot chocolate by Dobby.

"Dobby is pleased to see Harry Potter's friend, Miss!" He chirped. I smiled and thanked him. Dobby wasn't pleased at seeing Draco, however, as he left our company very quickly.

"Did you have nightmares again?" Draco asked. I sipped on the chocolate and nodded.

"They were worse, though." I went on to explain my nightmare, and Draco's eyes narrowed.

"And it was your father who saved you?" I nodded again.

"I think it might be the necklace trying to persuade you somehow. He wants you on his side, right? Maybe it's like Potter's scar, and has a connection to him." I stared at Draco in alarm. For one, how did he know of Harry's connection to Voldemort? Furthermore, I hoped that he wasn't right, even if it did make sense.

At my astonishment, he smirked at me. "Please, I've heard him speaking about it before."

"Still," I said. "It does nothing to ease my worries. Dumbledore has scheduled Occlumency lessons for me, to block out the locket's persuasion." Draco nodded.

"Good. I still don't like it being around your neck, though." He planted a kiss on my lips.

When he made to move away, I pulled him down again by his neck, holding him in place. He was surprised, but not unwilling, when he prodded for me to open my mouth. I quickly obliged as I tasted his peppermint-chocolate tongue. I moaned softly, comforted by his actions as he pulled me onto his lap. Perhaps I should have been embarrassed to snog in front of house elves, but God, I had missed him terribly. And it had only been a few hours, too!

"So I suppose you're not mad at me anymore?" He asked, pulling away. I laughed and shook my head. No, I wasn't. And I couldn't expect him not to hate them, but taunt them, yes, I could. And I would have the same conversation with Harry and Ron, too.

"But you do realize that they come with the package, right?" I asked him. "Harry and Ron are my best friends. I'd never give them up for you, like I'd never give you up for them. You understand that, don't you?"

"Do I have to be happy about it?" He asked seriously. I sighed.

"I suppose not. Just behave and everything will be alright."

He gave a grunt of agreement before kissing me again. They were softer kisses this time, less demanding, but as welcoming as ever. I pulled back and he gave a mewl of disappointment.

"I take it you missed me?" I asked him. He gave me a long, hard look.

"Merlin Granger, you've no idea. Now shut it and snog me." I gave a laugh and pecked his lips.

"Come on, I don't want to give the house elves a heart attack." I led him out of the room by the hand and he walked me back to the tower. We were far from the eyes of any teacher or Miss Norris, but we didn't want to take any more risks. He stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady and took my face in his hands, kissing me senseless. I moaned, leaning into the kiss.

When we were caught by one Severus Snape.

Now, we hadn't seen much of Snape since he had made us kill those children. I didn't like the thought of taking Occlumency lessons from the man, nor did I entertain what would happen during Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, but I had resolved to deal with them when they came. I certainly didn't expect to see him now. Though, honestly, given past experiences I should have. Snape had the knack of showing up when he was least wanted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Riddle, for inappropriate contact with another person. A detention tomorrow for being up past hours and when not on your rounds." Snape sneered. I reddened with embarrassment and anger, and waited for him to give a similar punishment to Draco, but he never did.

"Well?" He barked. "Get back to your dormitories before I assign another detention!" I nearly jumped but did as he said, giving a sparing glance to Draco before I climbed into the dormitories. I didn't know what Snape said to Draco, or if he did at all, because the portrait firmly shut behind me.

:S:

At breakfast, I sat and waited for Professor McGonagall to come with my schedule for the day. I had finished eating already but Ron and Harry had just shuffled in, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"So," I said. "Guess whose got a detention with Snape this evening?" I asked them lightly. Obviously a rhetorical question, but Ron made a game of guessing. I gave him an irritated glare. "No, Ron, it's me. Honestly."

"What?" Harry asked, nearly slamming is fork down. "You're joking! What did you do?" Ron repeated the question with a mouthful of eggs.

"I was out past curfew," I said. "I had trouble sleeping so I decided to go on, er, unofficial rounds."

"Really?" Harry said. He placed some bacon on his plate and chewed on it thoughtfully. "I had trouble sleeping too. Mostly it was my scar, though. Kept burning up. I expect somethings going on with Voldemort, you know." He said casually. I nodded. "It actually woke me up at three this morning. Before I just had a bad dream."

"What was the dream?" I asked him cautiously. Could it have been my very nightmare? Harry gave me a look that said it all. It was my dream, and now he definitely knew something was up. I had some explaining to do, I imagined. But, instead of revealing the truth, he said,

"Just Voldemort killing a few people." He said.

"You know you can't keep that connection open, Harry," I admonished, if only halfheartedly. "Dumbledore said you need to practice your Occlumency and close it off so he doesn't use it against you again."

"Yeah, I know, Hermione." He said, instead of snapping at me.

McGonagall came down when we were finished and handed out our schedules. She immediately cleared me for all of our classes. Snape had just finished with Draco and I migrated over to him, switching schedules. We had all of our classes together, it seemed, so we decided, without much conversation, to go together. We only had Ancient Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts for the day besides.

Whispers followed us through the halls, but that was really to be expected. We both ignored it. They weren't worth much attention anyway.

"Harry had my nightmare," I told him softly. Draco glanced down at me, alarmed.

"He did?" I nodded.

"I think you're right, about the necklace being like Harry's scar. Whenever it acts up, I think, it reacts to his scar. But that might depend on distance as well. I don't know. But I'm going to tell them about the summer."

"Hermione, you can't." Draco said, hushed. "Imagine how he would feel if he found out what you told Potter? I can't imagine he'd be pleased."

"So?" I asked him. "Draco, Harry deserves to know, just as much as Ron and Ginny do. They're my friends, they'll understand why I did what I did."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked. "Are you sure they won't hate you for it?"

"Gryffindors are loyal, Draco. And I had no choice in the matter."

"Not everyone will see it that way," he said gently. I didn't respond. I could only hope he wasn't right.

After Runes, with our arms full of books, we made our way down to the Defense classroom. Immediately, Draco was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed a bit awkward, not knowing what to do with the fact that I was still near Draco. They could bloody well get over us being together, because I surely wasn't letting them get in the way of our relationship any more than I would let Harry and Ron, or Pansy, for that matter.

Harry and Ron soon joined up with the queue, unsurprised to see me with Draco. Ron didn't like it anymore than Crabbe and Goyle, but at least Harry had the idea to ignore him completely. It was better than insulting him, at least, because then he behaved.

"We've so much homework for Runes," I told them. "A fifteen inch essay, two translations, and I've got to read all of these by Wednesday!"

"Shame," Ron yawned. "Oi," he said to Draco and his goons. "What're you lot doing here? Haven't you got anything better to do than to follow Mione around?"

"She's my girlfriend, Weasel," Draco sneered. "The title includes walking with her to class. Of course, you wouldn't know that, would you?"

"Draco!" I said. "That's not very polite, I'm sure Ron has had loads of girlfriends in the past-"Ron puffed out his chest and gave a smirk.

"Damned straight," he said. "And they're hell of a lot happier with me than they'll ever be with you, Ferret-" He seemed to have forgotten that I was Draco's girlfriend. Oh, people these days.

"Ronald!" I stopped him as Snape entered the corridor. Draco snickered beside me. He, Snape, looked as sour as ever, and his mood certainly didn't change from a few hours ago. Snape's gaze flickered across mine for a moment. I was reminded again of my oncoming detention with him and looked away immediately.

"Enter," he said.

We shuffled inside the room, gloomy and dark, everything you could expect from Snape. It was lightened only by candles, the curtains drawn over the windows. I sat down in an empty desk toward the front. Neville made his way toward me, but was impeded by Draco, who loudly sat beside me. Neville looked frightened and jumped back. I sent him an apologetic glance, especially when it was Blaise who he had to sit next to. Thankfully, Blaise didn't say a word. It didn't help Neville in the least, however.

There were pictures of people in incredible pain on the wall. I grimaced, recognizing the injuries fallen upon them because I have actually seen it before. I came to quickly realize that I was not going to enjoy this class. Draco gave my hand a squeeze and he didn't look any better than I did. I wished he didn't have to experience the things I did, but it was a small comfort knowing I wasn't alone in this.

"I will have your full attention," he said as he closed the classroom door behind him. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an OWL in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the NEWT work, which will be much more advanced."

For one moment, I was almost thankful for Voldemort being my father. Surely I had improved under his guidance this past summer? Though, honestly, his idea of tutoring was by far the most unpleasant educational experience I have ever had. Next to Snape, of course. He was no picnic either.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

He paused, scanning over the class, and meeting my gaze. He continued, "Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse," he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony, "feel the Dementor's Kiss," a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall, "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." This time, the picture was of a bloody mass upon the ground. I shuddered. I had never encountered an Inferi, and I hoped never to.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of the nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

I raised my hand patiently while Snape took his time looking to the other students for the answer. I still didn't know why he did this when I could simply answer, but I hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask him. He finally called on me.

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage." I told him confidently.

"An answer copied almost word for word from the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_," Snape said dismissively. Draco sniggered beside me and I elbowed him in the side. He winced and raised his hands slightly in defeat. Snape ignored us. "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze, I felt, turned to Harry more than any other person in the room. We were both reminded, I am sure, of his failure at Occlumency. I wondered if my lessons would yield the same results, and I prayed they didn't. "lack."

"You will now divide into pairs," he went on. "One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

The desks were magicked aside and Draco and I stood together, facing one another. We took a few steps back and had our wands pointed at one another. It was a bit of a joke, really. Draco and I had dueled together before in his manor under the supervision of Voldemort, and we had learned nonverbal spells then. We had to, every time we shouted our spells we were greeted with the Cruciatus. Harsh, and bloody well unfair, but effective.

We passed along back and forth, jinxing and repelling, until the point where we were both downright bored. Our classmates weren't doing very well either. One glance at Ron and I knew that he could stand there until he was blue in the face and would be unable to jinx Harry. Blaise, to my surprise and complete gratitude, was treating Neville cordially. Likely because even if he was a Gryffindor, he was still a pure-blood. He was more successful at jinxing Neville than Neville was at repelling, but he was throwing helpful hints in their to boost his moral. I knew, of course, that Blaise was not doing it for himself or for Neville, but for me, and I could be expected to repay him somehow in return.

After awhile, Snape remarked on Ron's pathetic performance. He turned on Harry and Harry reacted instinctively, yelling out _Protego. _Draco and I stepped back. Snape righted himself, and the desk that he had hit, scowling at Harry. He was not in a good mood, it seemed.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?" Snape asked, glaring at him.

"Yes," Harry replied. Draco and I shared a glance.

"Yes, sir."

I couldn't stop Harry from what he said next even if I had tried.

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

Several of us, and me, gasped at his audacity. Ron was grinning behind Snape, and Seamus and Dean had given him a thumbs up in appreciation. Draco shook his head and scowled, as did several of the Slytherins.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office." Snape declared. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter, not even _'the Chosen One.'" _He sneered.

When class ended, it was time for a break. Draco left with his goons, giving her a quick kiss goodbye before she ran to catch up with Harry and Ron. They had seen her kiss with Draco and both looked fairly disgusted by it.

"Oh shut it, you two," I said, blushing.

"Don't go and tell us he's a good guy, Mione," Ron said angrily before I could continue. "We all know he's a right prat. In fact, are you sure he isn't dating you to get to us?"

"Believe it or not Ronald Weasley," I said heatedly, "My life isn't entirely centered around the two of you! Especially my personal life!"

"We know that, Mione," Harry said, trying to soothe me, "but it just seems awfully convenient for him to suddenly date you over the summer. He only just learned the truth a few months ago."

"I understand your concern, but I think I can handle myself when it comes to Draco Malfoy. Now can we get on with our break? I have to get started on my homework." I demanded.

"Alright, alright," Harry said. Jack Sloper ran up to Harry with a roll of parchment in his hand, calling his name. They went on to talk about Quidditch when Sloper left and read the parchment as they made their way to the Common room.

"It's Dumbledore," he said. "He wants me to come in on Saturday. Ha! Snape won't be pleased, I wont be able to do his detention!" He grinned triumphantly. I gave him a look of disapproval as I sat down in the large armchair, settling with my books. Ron sat opposite of me and Harry stood, reading the parchment aloud. There were only a few in the common room, but they weren't paying attention to us anyway.

"I wonder what he'll teach you?" Ron asked. "Jinxes and hexes, maybe? But, ones Death Eaters didn't know, so you could get 'em without them knowing."

"Ron, that's illegal, and Dumbledore won't teach him anything illegal. He's the Headmaster, he can't. Besides, it's the more likely he'll be teaching Harry really advanced Defensive magic against Voldemort." The locket gave a tremor upon my saying his name, and Harry rubbed his scar at the same time.

"Speaking of him," Ron murmured under his breath. It reminded me that I needed to talk to them about my summer.

"Listen," I began softly. "I need to talk to you guys, and Ginny, too. About my summer. But you have to promise to trust me, alright?"

Harry and Ron nodded solemnly. "It's part of the reason Draco and I are together. Trust me, if it were any different, we probably wouldn't be. But, given the situations what they are..." I shrugged. "I wouldn't change it for the world."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. "We trust you, Hermione."

"Yeah, it's the prat we don't trust." I gave him a look but smiled.

Next class was potions, and only a few people had made it to the NEWT level. Crabbe and Goyle, apparently, had not made it. I noticed that Draco was without his goons, but Pansy Parkinson was very much there and very much scowling at Draco. Draco was glaring at her in return, but his expression lightened considerably when I approached. I smiled brightly at him, glad to see him.

The dungeon's door opened and Slughorn entreated them to come in. As they filed into the room, Draco and I side by side, we took our tables. Interestingly enough, Draco decided to stay with us instead of with his fellow Slytherins. Unfortunately, it left Ernie to fill in his space, and they (all but Blaise, who was, as usual, taking it good naturally) were glaring viciously at him and Draco. Draco sent them a glare in return, almost like silently ordering them to keep their mouth's shut.

Harry and Ron were displeased with the development, of course, but said nothing. They probably expected the Slytherins to act differently toward me, given who my father was. Probably still shocked them, though, how Draco was willing to put up with them to be with me. Not without a few acid-filled taunts, of course.

We passed by many cauldrons as we had taken our seats, already filled with bubbling brews. I recognized all of them immediately, and grew excited for our lesson.

"Now then," said Slughorn, "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."

"Sir?" Harry raised his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything..." he said. I turned to Draco with a questioning brow.

"What were you and Pansy talking about?" I whispered. Draco shook his head, a small smile playing on his face.

"Nothing to worry about," he replied. "We just had a row, is all." I quirked a brow. It was obvious by their general behavior they had a row, but I wondered what exactly they argued about. Was it me?

After Harry's issue was settled, Slughorn continued. "Now then. I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your NEWTs. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table.

I raised my hand immediately. Slughorn pointed at me. "It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing to the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known, featured in a few Ministry leaflets too. Who can-?" My hand shot in the air again, and Draco mimicked me, only looking more anxious than I actually was. I elbowed him in the side.

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir." I told him.

"Excellent, excellent! Now this one here... yes, my dear?" Slughorn said, looking bemused, at me. I smiled sheepishly, but was extremely excited.

"It's Amortentia!"

"Indeed it is! And I suppose you can tell me what it does?" He asked. I nodded.

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world."

"Very good! You recognized it, I assume, by it's distinctive mother of pearl sheen?"

I nodded. "And the steam rising in characteristic spirals. It's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. I can smell, for example, rain and peppermint-chocolate.."

"That better be me you're smelling there, Granger," Draco said, looking smug. He very well knew that I was speaking about him. Ron made gagging noises behind us, while Harry looked thoroughly disgusted. I flushed.

"Granger? Granger?" Slughorn said, hearing my name. "Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?" Slughorn said enthusiastically. I shook my head, choosing not to elaborate. I wondered when it would come into light the truth about my parentage, but today was not the day.

"Oh," he said, seemingly deflated. "Ah well, you have no doubt as brilliant of a mind." He complimented with a toothy smile.

"Twenty well earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Now, Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible t manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most powerful potion in this room. When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love." He paused. "And now, it is time for us to start work."

"Sir," Ernie interrupted, "You haven't told us what's in this one." He pointed to a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion was splashing within it's confinement merrily, the color of molten gold. I recognized it immediately, and my eyes widened.

"Oho," Slughorn said. "That, ladies and gentleman, is a curious little potion called Felix Felices. I take you know what it does, Miss Granger?"

"It's liquid luck," I replied. "It makes the drinker very, very lucky."

Slughorn nodded. "Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felices. Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed until the effects wear off."

After more questions about the potion, and the mention of it being the prize for the most successful potion, we all set to work. Draco was nearly ripping the pages looking for the right one. I raised a brow, wondering why he needed a lucky day so badly. I didn't really need it in particular, but it would be nice for a good day, for a change. I reached the black currant colored liquid the fastest, it seemed.

"Sir," Draco said beside me. I glanced up at him. "I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"

If he knew Abraxes, I thought, he surely must know my father. After all, my father was old enough to be my grandfather. I pursed my lips, wondering how Slughorn would react to the news.

"Yes," Slughorn said, without looking at Draco. "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age..." He walked away from Draco and nodded at my potion, and then Harry's. He frowned at Ron's, of course.

I glanced over at Harry's potion, which was now a pale pink. I scowled. "How are you doing that?" I demanded. Draco looked over at Harry's potion as well, and his look matched my own.

"Add a clockwise stir-"

"No," I snapped, "no, the book says counterclockwise!" He simply shrugged while I turned back to my potion. How on earth was it that Harry had a better potion than I did? That never happened. His skills in potions hadn't happened over night, either, we both knew that.

"Time's up!" Slughorn called. "Stop stirring, please!" He moved slowly over the tables, peering into the cauldrons. When he reached Harry's, his face was one of pure delight. "The clear winner! Congratulations, Harry! Good lord..."

I didn't care to listen to the rest. Harry won the potion due to something that was clearly not his mother's own skills. Obviously, both Draco and I were displeased. He muttered obscenities under his breath and I didn't care to admonish him for it, because I wasn't exactly happy, either.

"I suppose you think I cheated?" Harry said to me.

"Well, it wasn't your work, now was it?" I told him stiffly.

"Come on, Mione. He only followed different instructions. Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? But he took a risk and he paid off." He sighed. "Slughorn could've handed me that book, but no..." He continued to complain when Ginny joined them. She gave Draco a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hang on," she said to Harry. "Did I hear right? You've been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?" She was alarmed and angry. I gave Draco a look and he got the hint, catching up with his fellow Slytherins. I glanced back at Harry and Ginny.

"It's nothing," he said. "It's not like Riddle's diary. It's just an old textbook someone's scribbled on."

"But you're doing what it says?" Ginny asked.

"I just tried a few tips written in the margins, honestly," he tried to explain.

"She's got a point," I said. "We ought to check it out, make sure there is nothing wrong with it. I mean, who knows?" I took it from him and pointed my wand at it. _"Specialis Revelio!" _I said, tapping it on the front cover. To my great disappointment, and relief, it did nothing. Harry took it back from me, irritated. I frowned and shared a look with Ginny.

"Why don't we make our way to the Room of Requirement?" I asked them. The three nodded and we made our way to the corridor where the Room of Requirement was hidden. I paced before the wall three times when the door materialized through the wall, and they shuffled through.

Inside, the room was very cozy and warm, like the Gryffindor Common room. When we were seated comfortably, three pairs of eyes looked at me patiently, waiting for me to begin. Unlike with Dumbledore, I left little out, even my relationship with Draco. There were gasps, cries of outrage, and the worst, silence. I couldn't meet their gaze when I told them of my nightmares, of the necklace, of my father and the things I had been forced to do while I was with him during the summer.

When I finished, tears leaked from my eyes and the eyes of my friends. Ginny immediately hopped up from her seat and held me tight. I knew, then, that she didn't hate me for what I did. She probably understood the most, because of my father's old diary. I was so glad to have a friend like her.

"I can't believe- what you did- what he made you do... Oh Mione, no wonder you didn't tell us." Ginny said, taking my hand. "You must have been frightened."

I nodded. "But, on the upside, Draco was always there for me. He took care of me. And I know you guys might not like him, but he was there for me when no one else could be. That means the world to me."

"I can't believe this." Ron said. I waited patiently for him to elaborate. "I can't believe- you're sympathizing with her, Gin? She killed her parents! Out of cold blood!"

"No, Ron, it wasn't like that-" I protested.

"It wasn't cold blooded, you prat! If she hadn't done what she had done, they would still be suffering right now! Wouldn't you rather die than suffer? To allow another person from suffering?"

"I would rather die than kill my own parents!" He yelled. "What if it had been Mum or Dad?" He demanded of me. "What if it had been my parents? Our parents, Ginny? Would you have done the same?" He asked.

I nodded. "If I could prevent prolonging their suffering and that was my only choice, than yes, I would." I said, calm. "You don't know what it's like there, Ron. They're better off."

"Stop being a prat, Ron. I would have done the same." Harry said, resolute.

"I can't believe this," Ron said. He ran his hand through his hair and left the room.

"Don't worry about him," Ginny said. "He's just being a prat. It's a lot to take in. I'm not okay with it all, but it's justifiable, in a way." She gave me a hug before leaving after her brother. It was just me and Harry.

"Do you hate me, Harry?" Harry shook his head.

"Never, Hermione." He said. "I could never hate you. Not because of something Voldemort had done."

* * *

Hermione's acting more like her book-self in this chapter. Good or bad?


	11. Chapter 11

___All recognized is owned by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. _

_**Thank you for your reviews! Sorry I haven't updated in some time, school has caught up with me, you see.**_

_**Not my favorite chapter, but, well, whatever. It will have to do.  
**_

* * *

It turned out that detention with Snape meant Occlumency lessons. I wanted to throttle him for it, but I understood that it provided a reasonable enough alibi as to why I was in his office. I hardly wanted to announce to the entire school I was taking Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.

Draco had already told me a little of what to expect. He had been under the tutelage of his Aunt Bella, and needless to say, it hadn't been pleasant. Even when she hadn't been using the Cruciatus. He said that clearing one's mind was very, very important for the process, because anything left on the upper layer of the mind could and would be exploited. Severus Snape wasn't Bellatrix Lastrange, and believe me I was thankful, but it didn't mean that lessons with him would be easy.

I knocked tentatively on the door to Snape's office. He bid me to enter with a harsh snarl and was ready to begin. I closed the door behind me softly; Snape looked up, his eyes leering. Almost immediately upon eye contact, I felt this rush of force, cold and bitter, enter my mind. It was destructive and invading, permeating every crevice of my mind.

I panicked, Draco's advice fleeing from my mind. I needed him out. I drew up my magic, it was warm and fiery, crackling about me. It was soon joined by something much colder, much more malevolent, but I hadn't realized that when I forced him back. It was too much magic. Snape flew up and slammed back against the wall. I winced.

"Are you alright, Professor?" I asked.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Miss Riddle," Snape snarled in response. I glared at him. I felt no sympathy as he drew himself, seemingly composed, when I saw him wince. It had hurt, what I had done. I took no pleasure from it, but I was glad that he was out of my head.

"That's hardly my fault, you entered my head without my permission! You can't just do that, Professor, I could have killed you!" Snape glowered.

"Ten points for disrespecting a teacher," he hissed. "Perhaps next time you should consider blocking my entrance rather than allowing me to enter your mind?"

I pursed my lips and calmed down before I spoke again. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to bait me, to raise my ire, like he did with Harry. But I wasn't Harry, and I wouldn't take it. It would have the exact opposite effect than the one I wanted, so I forced myself to calm down. I took a deep breaths, closing my eyes. There was a storm within my mind, my anger and hatred. I felt the necklace thrum against my heart, joining in it's beat, and I willed for it to slow down. I did not want to give anything away to Snape. I had to calm down.

When I opened my eyes, Snape entered my mind again. It was clearer than before, but it wasn't entirely. This time, I was standing beside Snape. He was looking about it, for once totally empty; a sea of blackness. He gave me a calculating look before drawling,

"It is a pity," he said, "that you and your friends no longer get along."

Confusion painted my mind, an odd, sort of murky color. Snape drew his finger across it and it smeared all over his skin. He clenched his fist, and memories flooded through in the form of rain. He cupped the most recent; the scene filling the landscape. I watched myself telling Harry, Ron and Ginny all that had occurred during my summer, feeling my emotions twice fold as I did so. I was angry and sad, but then confused and relieved as Harry told me how he didn't hate me.

"How touching," Snape drawled. He released the memory and it fell to the floor, and instead grasped a completely different emotion. My anger. This time the memories rained down red, and were as thick as blood. It poured all over me, burning as it clung to my clothes. I was disgusted, but I was too fascinated by the experience to push Snape out. It was so very odd, and Harry hadn't described anything like it when he told Ron and I of his lessons with Snape.

"If you have no desire to take this lesson seriously Miss Riddle," Snape said before withdrawing from my mind. He continued as I stared at him, once again in his office. "Then I shall have no choice but to discontinue them." He sounded as if he had no problem with that fact at all.

"No, sir. I'm sorry. It's just... fascinating."

"It will be equally fascinating once the Dark Lord enters your mind and finds your every secret," Snape snarled. "It will be equally fascinating watching your very friends die from your lack of preparation. It will be e_qually fascinating_," He snarled again, "to watch your mind taken over by that necklace hanging around your neck! If you do not take these lessons seriously, Miss Riddle, then you very may well lose yourself to it!"

My body went rigid and I nodded in understanding. Snape was right. I didn't have the luxury of analyzing the experience, I had to focus on preventing him from invading my mind. Even if he did invade my mind, I had to make sure there was nothing that could trigger an emotional response. If he spoke, I had to make sure that I did not react to it. It was much easier said then done, if the first bit was anything to go by.

"Sir," I said, tapping my chin in thought. "If it is in my mind, then, theoretically, would I be able to manipulate what happens, like you had done? With the paint and blood?"

"Those are your physical conceptions of those emotions," Snape drawled. "And that was certainly not paint. It was mud. As for your theory, yes. However, it is not foolproof. I have equal amount of power in manipulating your emotional responses. It is up to you whether you act on them or not."

I nodded. "Once more, then?" I asked, after my mind was clear.

"Very well." Our eyes met and he whispered _"Legilimens" _underneath his breath, his wand at my temple. It was raining, but not memories. Just rain. The clouds were gray above us and there was a pool beneath our feet. Snape quirked a brow this time. He held out his hand and squeezed, the water dripping from his memories.

"A shame, to fly in this weather." Snape commented idly. _Fly?_ I thought. It reminded me of the time during our third year, when- Snape grasped onto the it and held on tightly. He forced my mind to bring up my third year, and the memories flitted across our eyes like a poorly constructed movie. I saw myself with the time turner, many a times, and in particular, when Snape had ordered us to write an essay on werewolves.

This happened in a split second until I realized what was going on. I fought him off, trying to direct my memories to shut themselves away. But his hold was too strong and he continued to watch. I finished the essay, the dawning realization and panic of what Remus Lupin was. I was glad because I knew, but I was also incredibly worried. Werewolves were dangerous beings. I was worried that he might harm a student.

I tried again to force him out, or at least direct the memories elsewhere. His hold loosened when he was watching himself get blasted away by Harry in the Shrieking Shack. I used that moment to bring up all the memories I could of him. Uninteresting and likely tedious, since he shared most, if not all of them. Snape withdrew immediately. I blinked and gazed up at him expectantly, certainly not for praise, but some sort of critic.

"Directing memories as you have done is useful when you have something to hide, or an evasion technique. However, it was brusque and crude. If you are to use the tactic again, you will need to be more subtle. For Merlin's sake, girl, Draco Malfoy is your boyfriend. At least pick up a few traits from him." He paused. "We are done for the evening."

I nodded at his dismissal and was too absorbed into his words to question when our next lesson would be. I left the arrangements for him. I had figured from the very beginning that it would be at his own convenience, rather mine. The excuse of detention was proof enough of that fact.

As I left his office, I heard the echoing voices of one Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. They appeared to be whispering, but the cold walls that surrounded them did more harm than good. I quickly disillusioned myself, shivering at the familiar feeling of egg yolk running down my back.

"He didn't order you to strut around with his whore of a daughter!" Pansy hissed. I pursed my lips in irritation.

"Hermione is not a whore, Pansy, and if I hear you insult her again you'll wish you'd never been born." Draco said lowly.

"The Dark Lord ordered you to do something, Draco, we all know it." Pansy hissed. "But shagging his daughter wasn't on the list. Would he have really given you _that_ if that's what he wanted?"

"Shut it!" Draco yelled. "Hermione is going to be around here soon, do you want her to hear you?" Oh, so he remembered. The timing was a little off, though. My "detention" with Snape was over. But, what was it that he didn't want me to hear? I silenced my footsteps and moved to a corner, hidden by shadows.

"Maybe I do? Maybe if she knew how you were licking her father's boots she wouldn't be with you? And then, you and I, we can be together, without her in the way!" She didn't sound threatening at all, but ecstatic. Gleeful. She really wanted to be with Draco. They stopped right in front of me. My gaze settled on Draco. He was sad, really sad. He didn't want to hurt Pansy.

"You and I are never going to be together, Pansy, with or without Hermione. I care for you, but like a sister, nothing more." Relief washed over me. Thank Merlin. I didn't know what I would do without Draco. But... I didn't like the fact that Pansy was trying to steal him from me. I would have a little chat with her later, I resolved. Soon.

"You'll see, Draco," Pansy said. She was sobbing now. "You'll see. You and I are meant to be together. I don't care about _that_! It's a badge of honor, serving the Dark Lord! But Hermione won't see it that way, and you'll come to love me, I know you will!"

"Pansy," Draco said gently. "Hermione... I.. I care about her. A lot. You..." He stopped.

"You're only with her because your mother told you too! Don't deny it!" She sobbed louder. I was shocked by her accusation, and I waited for Draco to deny it. _Deny it, Draco. Deny it. Please. Please._

He didn't deny it.

Pansy let out a chocked laugh. "You can't fool me Draco, I know you too well. You can act innocent around her, but I know the truth. How do you think Hermione will feel when she hears about your little arrangement with your mother?" _Like shit, but thanks for asking Pansy. _ The necklace thrummed against my heart. _**Kill him, **_It whispered. _**Kill him for the injustice he has bestowed upon you. You love him, and he has betrayed you. Kill him.**_

I raised my wand and pointed it at Draco. He deserved it, didn't he? For hurting me? _**Yes... Like.. like your mom deserved it, your dad deserved it... **_But they hadn't deserved it! They hadn't deserved to die, I killed them so they wouldn't suffer anymore. If they had deserved it, I would have let them live longer.

I shook my head. It was Salazar's locket, invading my thoughts. I cleared my head and rid myself of the anger and hurt, willing them away. I would not allow my thoughts to be manipulated by an inanimate object. I would not kill the best thing in my life simply because a locket told me to. I put my arm down. I would not kill him. He did not deserve it.

Even if he really did hurt me. But I deserved to hear it from him, and not as a third party insight into a conversation I wasn't even supposed to hear. I deserved the truth from his lips, and he had the right to tell me. I resolved to ask him the next day, but I didn't think I could stand it any longer than that.

"If you say one word about it to Hermione, I swear to you, Pansy, you will not live to see the next day." Draco said, murderous. "I will not allow you to ruin my relationship with her simply because you're jealous."

Pansy stepped back, looking fearful. She ran off and Draco waited a moment before calmly following. He wasn't chasing her, not really. After all, they did have the same common room. Her cries faded and a few seconds later, so did his footsteps.

I stood there for a long time, absorbing the information. Draco had a sort of badge that meant he served the Dark Lord. He had an assignment given to him by the Dark Lord. I closed my eyes. I knew what that meant. But I wondered how long it had been that way. Before, or after I had come to the Manor? And... he had agreed to date me. His mother asked him to date me. Why? To gain my father's favor?

I pursed my lips and returned to the common room, my head swimming with so many thoughts it was impossible to sort through them all, not to mention practice Occlumency. I collapsed on my bed and stared at the canopy. No matter if I wanted to, I knew I wouldn't sleep that night.

:S:

The week passed and I barely spoke to Draco. We spent our classes together and Draco kept asking me what was wrong. I wouldn't hold his hand and I wouldn't kiss him. Even Harry had noticed. Ron, however, was too busy being angry and sucking the face off of Lavender Brown. It distracted him, at least, from yelling at me.

"Is everything alright between you and Draco?" Harry asked, sitting on the floor, polishing his broom. He was making sure it was ready for practice sometime during the next week or so. I paused for a moment.

"What about us?"

"You've been avoiding him like the plague," Harry said pointedly. I pursed my lips, turning to watch the fire. "Did he do something?" I sighed.

"Look, it's nothing. He and I have just had a bit of a disagreement, lately." I lied. Harry watched me for a moment and shook his head.

"Does Draco know that?" He asked. "He seems a bit confused about why you're ignoring him. He even asked me about it."

I turned sharply. "He did?"

"Yeah, he said he was worried that you haven't been talking to him." Harry paused. "Listen, Mione, you know I don't like him. But, you seem to be sane, even after being around Voldemort for a large amount of time. Malfoy, I'm sure, is a large part of that. Don't you think you should talk to him about whatever he did wrong instead of ignoring him? It's not going to make things any better."

There was a distinct squelching noise, like a plunger being removed from the toilet. "Oi!" Ron said indignantly. "Whose side are you on?"

"Shut it, Ron." Harry said. He went back to his broom and I sat there for a moment before realizing that Harry was in fact right. Ignoring him would do more harm than good, and Merlin, I didn't want to ruin our relationship. I still had to learn the truth, though, and I deserved to hear it. Before stuffing my essay into my bag, I would rewrite it later anyway, I gave Harry a tight hug. I tossed my bag into the dormitory and ran out the common room.. I had to talk to him. What I was doing wasn't fair. He didn't know what he did wrong, or rather, he wasn't aware I knew what he had done, and I needed to confront him about it.

In the past week, I never spoke to him. He was always nearby, but I would ignore him if he tried to talk to me. I missed talking to him. I missed him. Funny, how it would take one little conversation with Harry would make me realize that.

"_Expecto Patronum." _I whispered. My patronus appeared, the otter swirling around me with silver trails, bouncing rather happily. "Tell Draco Malfoy to meet me by the lake in ten minutes. If he's busy, tell him to reply back through you, alright?" The otter nodded before drifting off to find Draco.

I made my way down to the lake, pacing by the docks. I glanced up at the entrance every few seconds. I didn't know if he was coming. I hoped he was. Please let him come. I needed to apologize. I needed to confront him. I needed to know.

I sighed in relief when I saw his golden head bob down the lawn. He was standing in front of me within minutes. We stood there for a long moment, I looked up at him, searching his gray eyes. I loved his eyes. I would never tire of them. They were cold but welcoming, like the snow, and as soft as summer rain.

"Draco," I said, "I'm sorry. I've been really childish this past week."

"Apology accepted, Granger," he said smugly, smirking. I smiled. His shoulders slumped in relief, but his arrogant air was still intact. "I wondered when you would. What, might I ask, might I have done for you to ignore me so?"

"I heard you talking to Pansy," I said plainly. Draco visibly paled. I took a deep breath and I closed my eyes. "Draco, please don't tell me what she said was true. Please don't tell me that you've got the Mark."

Draco swallowed a hard lump in his throat. He didn't say anything. Slowly, I took his left arm and rolled the sleeve up his arm. He didn't stop me. The Dark Mark emerged from underneath his clothing, hiding like a snake in the grass. It was as black as death, and I wanted to cry. All this time, he had been a Death Eater, and he didn't tell me. Why didn't he tell me? Oh Merlin, oh Merlin.

"So it's true," I whispered. "And... the job he gave you?"

"I can't tell you that," he whispered. He was pleading. "Please, Hermione, I want to but I can't."

"Then at least tell me why," I demanded. "At least... at least tell me why you're serving him. I deserve that much." I said. Tears fell from my eyes because I was so afraid. If the Order won they would have no mercy on Draco. And if he failed, Voldemort would kill Draco. I would lose him either way.

"He threatened to kill my parents. My parents, Hermione. I can't let them die."

"I won't let that happen, Draco. I promise."

:S:

September 14th rolled around soon enough and it was time for Quidditch practice. I walked with Harry to the pitch, Ron and Ginny still ahead of us. Ron was still being a right prat, but there was little I could do about it until he simmered down a bit.

"Hey, Hermione..." I glanced over. Harry looked a bit nervous. I wondered if it was more about what he was going to say than Quidditch practice, but I didn't say anything. "Do you know what Draco's been up to lately?" I paused.

"No, why?" Harry stopped too.

"Well, I've been watching the Map lately, and when he's not with you or his usual bunch of Slytherins, he disappears."

'He can't disappear on the Map, Harry," I said. "You know that."

"Unless he's in the Room of Requirement," Harry said. "It doesn't show on the map, does it?"

I blinked. "No, it doesn't. Harry... what are you thinking?"

He sighed. "I don't want to say it, Hermione. I don't. But I think... well, one day I was in Diagon Alley, and I saw Draco going to Knockturn Alley. I followed him and he was... well, he was talking to the shopkeeper in Borgin and Burke. About something he needed."

"No, Harry, don't go there." I said. I knew exactly where this was heading. It was disturbing how close Harry came to the truth, even when I didn't want to believe it. I shouldn't be surprised, Harry was brilliant, even if it didn't come to books. Still, I didn't want him knowing Draco was a Death Eater. I had to take care of whatever it was Draco had to do. I had to stop Draco from performing his task, so whatever it was wouldn't harm him in the end, and to prevent his parent's from dieing. It was a lot to handle, but I would. For Draco. Always for Draco.

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you? If he was?" I opened my mouth and closed it.

"Draco's been distancing himself from me," I lied. "I don't know why. But Harry, I don't think he's a Death Eater. I've been there since the beginning of the Summer. I think I would have known if he was."

"Yeah, right." Harry nodded. "Well, wish me luck then."

"Good luck," I said. I went up to the stands and sat down, but I didn't pay much attention to their practice. Instead, I focused on practicing my Occlumency. I cleared my mind of my thoughts by focusing on my breathing. Which was difficult, all things considered. Still, my brain was clouded by thoughts and as much as I tried, I couldn't focus on it.

I had to think of a way to convince Voldemort to give the task, whatever it was, to someone else. Anyone else. So long as it wasn't Draco. I took a deep breath. I could go to Snape, he might know about it.

Actually, I was pretty sure he did, considering he was practically my father's right hand man. But if he knew, then that meant Dumbledore knew, and he would be more likely to tell me what it was than Snape. I didn't really trust Snape to tell me.

Then again, I couldn't trust Dumbledore too much either. So in reality, it all came down to who could do more for me. Snape might put in a word for me, but Dumbledore had a knack for getting things done and manipulating them to his own advantage. So long as Draco and his family were safe from harm, I didn't care how it helped him.

I glanced at the students in the pitch before I left to go see Dumbledore. I was taking a risk, but it was one I just had to take.

:S:

I rapped on the door to Dumbledore's office before opening it. Dumbledore was not alone. Snape stood there, glaring at me. I swallowed nervously before stepping forward into the room, closing the door behind me.

"Was there something you needed, Miss Riddle?" Dumbledore asked, not all that bothered by my intrusion.

"Professor, I need to ask you something. And I'd like it if you were completely honest with me." I began. Snape's eyes narrowed. I didn't meet his eyes and they narrowed further. I knew not to look him in the eye now.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, making no promises.

I took a deep breath. "I know that Draco's been made a Death Eater. And I know that you know too," I told him. Dumbledore folded his hands, looking completely unfazed. "What I need to know is why."

"I am surprised the young mister Malfoy has not told you," Dumbledore said.

"It's likely he's been ordered not to by my father," I told him. "Please Professor. If there is anything I can do to prevent Draco from fulfilling his task I will. I will not let my father manipulate him into doing something he can't do. I've seen what Draco is capable of doing, and it's not much to be considered anything useful to the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore was silent for sometime before he took a long, deep breath. Snape continued to stare me down, and it was unnerving. He was likely angry at me for not going to him about it, but I needed to speak with Dumbledore.

"I am afraid I can't help you, Miss Riddle-"

"Bullshit!" I cried out. Dumbledore remained calm despite my outburst, which only enraged me further. "Professor, I need to know what his task is! If I have to fulfill the task myself I would do it but I need to know what it is I'd be doing!"

"You would take it upon yourself?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Yes, Professor. I would." For Draco. Anything for Draco.

"Even if it was, hypothetically, to kill someone?" I stared at him before it dawned on me.

"So that is what he's been asked to do. To kill- but who?"

"Does it matter?" Dumbledore asked. He gave me a hard gaze. "Even not knowing who it was, Miss Riddle, would you do it?"

I shuddered at the thought of killing another person, another human being, but I knew the answer before I even replied. Of course I would. What was one more human being gone because of me, so long as Draco was safe? Would I kill Harry? No, of course not. And I doubted I could if my own father was unable to do it, his reputation what it was. Still. I would do it, if it meant Draco, and his family, was safe.

"Yes," I replied tiredly. "Yes Professor I would."


	12. Chapter 12

**OHMAIGOSH, LOOK WHO UPDATED.**

_finally._

First of all, I'd like to deeply apologize for not updating in... months. Honestly, when I took a break from Blood Ties I didn't think it would be so long, but it was so easy to ignore it. However, I have decided to get off my rear and finish this bloody thing before it kills me. I will never give up on this story. I can't. I've devoted too much time to it.

Thanks goes to aringle42 and I am Katniss Everdeen. Without them, I probably would have never started typing up the chapters.

And thank you, especially, to my reviewers, for sticking with me thus far.

**Blood Ties will be ending soon.** It will only last a few more chapters. 20 chapters, at the most? It honestly depends on how I pace everything. But fear not! I will have a sequel up and running as well. In fact, I'm working on it now. :P I cant guarantee I will update any more recent (the next six weeks are going to be grueling.) **Up until May 10, I will be busy with AP work. After that, I'm pretty much all yours.**

Also, if I replied to your review twice, I'm sorry. I can't remember if I did or not. :D

There are some changes to canon in this chapter.

* * *

Blood Ties

Chapter 12.

* * *

I collapsed on my bed, incredibly tired. I was mentally and physically drained. There was a heaviness in my limbs that wouldn't go away, and nightmares plagued me in my sleep, of which I got very little. Thoughts raged in my mind, battling for dominance, and that exhausted me even more.

I wished for nothing but escape. I wished I had never gone to the Ministry, last year. I wished I had been able to convince Harry to think rationally, to not go, to find a way to talk to Sirius. But who was I kidding? It would have changed nothing. Voldemort would have gotten to me sooner or later, my parents would have died sooner or later. I let out a dry sob, to tired to cry. My eyes were far too dry, in any case.

It just- hurt. And the bloody locket wasn't helping anything, either. It kept playing with my emotions, goading me into feelings I shouldn't feel. Dumbledore wanted me to keep it, to keep it safe until he believed he needed it. However, he refused to tell me why it was important, why it was what it was. But that didn't mean I couldn't figure it out for myself, somehow. But- not tonight.. I was far too tired tonight.

The victims that I had killed and tortured visited me when I closed my eyes, their screams ringing in my ears. I took a deep breath and decided that now was as good as time as any to try to Occlude them from my thoughts. I regretted killing them, but I had no choice. When had I ever been giving any choice in this? Voldemort had forced my hand, Dumbledore had forced my hand. Even Draco. I couldn't let him suffer for my father's actions.

No, I shouldn't be thinking. I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down, to drive my thoughts from me. Instead of focusing on my thoughts, I focused on my breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I did this until a sort of peace settled within me, but then the thrumming of the locket, the one I couldn't remove, reminded me that I would never be at peace until Voldemort was dead.

But I didn't want him to die. Oh no, it wasn't from sort I love for my father. I pitied him, despised him, loathed him. But I didn't want him to die. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to take away the most precious thing from him, but that was magic. And as far as I was aware, it couldn't be taken away. None of the books I read had hinted at it.

I took a deep breath and did my best to calm the swelling rage within me. I needed to practice my Occlumency, but too many thoughts raged in my head. I was thinking of Draco, and Dumbledore's request, and what Harry and Ron would do if I ever found out...

But they couldn't find out. I wouldn't let them. Not until the last moment. Not until I could help it. If they did find out... it would destroy them, greatly. It would destroy our friendship to the point beyond repair. Was being with Draco, and keeping his family safe, was it worth my friendship with Harry and Ron?

Maybe not, but I knew that it would destroy Draco if his parents died, and I couldn't do nothing. I wouldn't allow Voldemort to take them away from him. They might not be the greatest of parents, but they were his, and I would not allow Voldemort to take away his parents like he did mine.

Grasping my head, I wanted to tear out my hair. I was- I was so consumed with it all. With Voldemort, Draco, Harry and Ron- School hadn't been on my mind nearly as much as it normally was, and I hadn't thought of the exams since I arrived.

I wished for years gone by, when I was a happy little Muggleborn worrying about schoolwork, and not whether or not I could kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I rubbed at my eyes and begged for sleep to come, but I knew it wouldn't. Too many things on my mind. I wrapped my robes around myself, prefect badge glinting, and made my way out of the portrait hole.

Truth be told, I didn't know where I was going. I didn't have patrol that night, but my mind was just so preoccupied, it was no use trying to sleep. Letting my feet take me where they willed, my mind drifted off.

Snape... hadn't been pleased when I agreed to kill Dumbledore. He hadn't said anything, but the air around him had been incredibly cold. He gave both me and Dumbledore a snarling look before sweeping off to the dungeons, and Dumbledore had assured me that Professor Snape was not angry with me. I wasn't comforted.

"Professor Dumbledore," I had asked, remembering something. "You said you would be giving me lessons. At the beginning of the year."

Dumbledore had sighed. "You must forgive me. Originally, I had intended to teach you about your true heritage. About Voldemort, and your grandparents. However, I am afraid that... time has not allowed it, and I must focus on Harry. I must teach him all I can, before my death."

The death that, ultimately, I would give. I shivered in the cold. As warm as Hogwarts had been in the past, as homey it had been, it was foreign to me now. I didnt feel the familiar sense of safety, I didn't feel welcome. I didn't feel as if that, by being here, under Dumbledore's protection, that I was safe anymore. I wasn't safe anymore.

"Miss Riddle."

I paused and looked up at Professor Snape. Draco left the Professor's side and took my face in his hands. With his thumb, he slowly wiped my cheek, and it was only then that I realized he was wiping away tears. I had been crying. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. He was warm, whereas I was so cold. So incredibly cold.

"I don't want to do this Draco. I'm losing everything. I've lost... everything."

He wrapped his arms around me. "You haven't lost me."

Snape cleared his throat. "Miss Riddle. Come with me. Draco- you as well." It was a good thing, too. I don't know if nape could have gotten us to separate. I yearned for Draco's comfort more than ever, when he was with me, his arms wrapped around me, I could sleep. My mind would clear and for one moment, I was at peace. I wasnt waging war with the locket and with my duty, guilt didn't weigh heavily on my heart. I was simply Hermione, enjoying a quiet moment with my boyfriend.

Draco wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we followed Snape down the corridor and into the dungeon. It was a quiet walk, the silence looming over us. When we reached his office, Snape ushered us inside, and to sit down. I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

"Miss Riddle. How much sleep are you getting?" Snape asked immediately.

"Little to none," I confessed. "Why?"

"In our most recent staff meeting, it has been made apparent that your grades are rapidly failing. You are still, by the supreme stupidity of your fellow students, at the top of the class. Now I must ask, is it because of the locket you are wearing, or is it something else?"

"It's everything, Professor." As I said this, I held the locket. It's heartbeat was nothing more than a quiet thrum in my hand. I knew I didn't need to elaborate. He knew most everything that was going on. I wouldn't be surprised if he did know everything, besides.

"I will peak to the Dark Lord about this. He will not want you in poor health." Snape sneered. I let out a cold laugh.

"Oh Professor, he doesn't care. If he cared anything for my well being, he would have left me well alone. But his pride got in the way. He couldn't stand the thought of me being raised by Muggles."

Draco said nothing.

"You know very well the dangers of a Dreamless Sleep, Miss Riddle, but it may serve you well while you learn Occlumency. You need to keep appearances, and your slipping grades are not helping."

I nodded in understanding. Dreamless Sleep wasn't difficult to make, nor was it that hard to come by. The ingredients could be found in the potion's cupboard, which Slughorn did not lock, like Professor Snape used to. I could make it whenever I desired. But it was addicting. If I took too much,. I would never be able to truly sleep without it, not without months of rehabilitation.

"Seeing as it is the weekend, you may wish to take a Dreamless Sleep now." Professor Snape produced a bottle from his cabinet, and handed it to me. I took it. Liquid relief. "You are both dismissed. Oh, and Miss Riddle."

I looked back at him. "Yes, Professor?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out of bed after hours." I hid a smile and nodded solemnly.

"Goodnight, Professor."

Draco shut Snape's office door behind him. His hand in mine, he led me away, not to the Gryffindor tower, but to the Slytherin dormitory. I was curious, admittedly, and a little reluctant, but I was far too tired to resist. So I simply followed, thoroughly exhausted, yet unwilling to sleep. Nightmares would visit me, and I did not wish to greet them.

He whispered something to a stone wall, I did not hear, and led me by my hand to the Sixth Year boys dormitory. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be up, so the Common Room, thoroughly decorated with silver and green, lavishly so, was empty.

I heard the loud snores of Crabbe and Goyle, the soft muttering of Blaise Zabini, and collapsed in the arms of Draco onto his bed. He pulled the covers over us, still dressed, and it was not long before I slept. I had no nightmares that night, and the Dreamless Sleep was still in my hands.

* * *

September rolled into October I hadn't changed my mind on Dumbledore's request at all, but I was sleeping better, and my grades improved as a result. The only reason I was sleeping better was because I sneaked off to the Slytherin dormitory every night, as Draco had given me the password. Harry kept me informed on his lessons with Dumbledore despite Ron's disapproval, and he even tolerated Draco's presence once in a while. Mind, they were at each others throats any other time, but the gesture was nice.

My birthday passed with little comment. Draco gave me a journal with replenishing pages and a set of new quills with color-changing ink. It's favorite colors were green and silver, but I didnt mind as much as I initially thought. The quills also liked to write Draco's name in the margins of their own fre will. That was highly amusing, if nothing else.

Harry gave me the latest edition of Hogwarts, A History, a return to normalcy that I greatly appreciated, and Voldemort sent me a silver snake bracelet. After the locket, I didn't dare put it on. I didn't think it had any suspicious spells, otherwise Filch might have confiscated it, however, I did not trust it any more than I trusted a Blast-Ended Skrewt in the library.

The twelfth was to be the first Hogsmeade weekend, and Draco was determined to have us go. I for one was unsure due to Harry and Ron, but he convinced me with plenty of kisses.

I was all bundled up and ready to go, waiting by the staircase for Draco when Pansy Parkinson walked up to me. She was ganged by Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass. Daphne could be considered the only pretty one- the other two looked like rabid dogs ready to bite my head off. Which they probably were.

However, I was the Dark Lord's daughter (though I hated it) and I was not going to be pushed around by angry teenage girls with boy problems. My wand fell into my hand from my wand holster, hidden from their view. I crossed my arms.

"Parkinson." I greeted.

"Granger." She sneered. "Done throwing yourself at Draco, are you? You ought to be careful, if you can't keep your filthy legs shut you just might end up with a bastard on your hands."

"I've never thrown myself at Draco, Parkinson," I told her coolly. "And you ought to curb your tongue."

"You cannot hide behind your father, he's not here."

"I would never hide behind my father, Parkinson. Unlike you, I fight my own battles, not have them fought for me."

"So let's duel then." Parkinson declared. "Out by the Shrieking Shack. We'll be alone."

"No."

"Coward."

I smiled. "I'm not a coward, Parkinson. I'm saving you from embarrassment." Draco joined us and nodded to the Slytherin group. Almost immediately, Parkinson's eyes widened and a deep flush settled her cheeks. She was swooning. Swooning! And she had the gall to say I was hanging all over him, and he was my boyfriend.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in annoyance.

"Pansy. Millicent. Daphne." Draco greeted. "How goes you afternoon?"

Though he greeted all of them it was Pansy who answered. "Oh, just wonderful Draco."

He gave a half sort of smile. "Good. I must bid you ladies goodbye, however, as we have a very important day in front of us." I smiled up at Draco as he led us away. I did not look back at Pansy or the others. I only had eyes for him.

Our first stop was Honeydukes, where Draco bought me enough sugar quills to last the entire year and plenty of chocolate. I made him split half of it with me though, because I would never eat so much sugar. Couldn't, really, my parents rules were so ingrained that the thought of devouring so much sweets never crossed my mind. He then took me to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop to buy me actual quills, even more than he had bought me for my birthday, and a leather bound journal.

Hand in hand, we made our way to The Three Broomsticks where Draco got us our Butterbeer, while I retreated to an empty booth in the corner. It was only when he sat down that he asked what Pansy wanted.

"A duel," I told him honestly. "She wanted to fight me, but I wasn't about to have it."

"I'll speak with her later." He said. He wrapped a shoulder around me and I leaned into him, sipping on my Butterbeer. We shared a quiet moment together and I sighed. There, with him, amongst the noise and the chaos of laughing students, was a return to being normal, and it was there that I was happiest.

* * *

"Harry, I need a favor."

Said Gryffindor glanced up from his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Snape had assigned a three foot essay on poisons and such, which I knew I was going to pass with an Acceptable at the very least. I was nearly finished, however Harry was still on the intro. Ron was a ways off chatting with Seamus and Neville. Thankfully, he hadn't gone blabbing about my summer, so I was fine with his anger. So long as what I shared remain secret.

Anyway, Harry glanced up, glad for a distraction. I had been thinking on it all morning and I believed that it might be a good idea to visit the Chamber of Secrets. Harry frowned in confusion.

"Why would that be a good idea?" He asked me.

"Because. I have a feeling that there than what we know. Salazar Slytherin was the secretive sort, he'd have hidden something there. To keep it safe, at the very least."

The last thing he kept hidden had died in our second year." Harry remarked. I nodded in understanding.

"I know Harry, but I have to try. He knew so much, who is to say my father doesn't know it already?"

"If he does, Hermione, we have no chance." He sighed. "Alright. I'll take you." I beamed, wrapping him in my arms.

"Thank you so much!" Harry laughed.

"If I knew it would make you smile I would have agreed no matter what." He gave me a concerned look. "You havent been yourself Hermione."

"I know. And I'll explain, sometime, but... well, now is just.. not the best time. But I promise, I will."

Harry nodded. "I'll hold you to it."


	13. Chapter 13

Blood Ties

Chapter 13.

* * *

My reasoning for going into the Chamber was simple. Salazar Slytherin, in his time at Hogwarts, was known to have many experiments regarding Magic. His partner, ever the scholar, was Rowena Ravenclaw. Together, the two would push the boundaries of magic as far as they could go. It was only when Salazar Slytherin began using the Dark Arts more liberally, as well as Blood Magic, that Rowena began to hesitate, and she left.

She kept a journal of their pursuits and the results of each experiment and locked it away. It was said to be only available to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Some spells and potions were published and made available to the public, but others were kept secret. The journal was lost, however, centuries before it could ever fall into Dumbledore's hands.

Despite Rowena's leaving, Salazar continued to explore the many realms of magic, pushing his limitations as far as he could without destroying himself. It was said that he recorded everything, but no one, despite their extensive searches, had ever found the journal.

Much like the Chamber.

If Salazar Slytherin was to have kept it anywhere, it would be in the Chamber. I was sure it was much larger than Harry had described. As large as it was, it had to be massive to allow a basilisk to move freely, even with the pipes. Not only that, but it had been Salazar's refuge during his years at Hogwarts, surely he would have kept his most valuable possessions there, where only he could retrieve them?

And that was why I needed to ask Harry to take me. I couldn't go into the Chamber by myself, as I still was unable to speak Parseltongue. Harry could, and with him, I was sure we would gain access to just abut anything there.

"Are you sure about this Hermione?" Harry asked. Tucked underneath his arm was the Invisibility cloak. I may have been a prefect, but I had wandered around late at night enough already. I couldn't do so again, not when I wasn't going to the Slytherin dorm, at any rate. We cleared away the rubble with our wands from the cave in. It was dark down there, and the skeletons of lord knows what crunched beneath our feet.

"Positive," I replied. "Voldemort wouldn't dare take any of Salazar's work out of the Chamber. It's too valuable. And it's likely the best way to figure out just what my father knows."

"Do you think he might have left something here himself?"

I frowned. "It's likely. I mean, this place was important to him. It's his heritage."

"It's your heritage, too, you know." Harry pointed out.

"Only by blood."

"That's all that has ever mattered to him."

I hummed in agreement. When we reached the Chamber door, Harry whispered for it to open. The snakes slunk back and the door slowly swung open. I stepped inside. It was cold, and wet. Water rested at either side of the stone flooring, still as death. A chill ran up my spine as I gazed at the dead basilisk. It's body was almost completely decayed and rotted, it's blood stained the floor.

"And you defeated this thing?" I asked in amazement. "Harry..."

He shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "Only with the help of Fawkes. If he hadn't arrived with the Sorting Hat, I would have died, along with Ginny."

"Well," I said quietly. "It's a good thing you're so loyal to Dumbledore." I paused. "Come on, I want to have a look around."

Near the decaying body was an archway, and that was where I first looked. Harry was right behind me.

"Lumos," I whispered. My wand lighted and I held it out in front of me. It seems I was right. The arch led to a small hallway, which opened up to a small library. Bookshelves lined the walls and a couch was seated in the middle, in front of a fireplace. I made one of my smokeless fires, which lighted the room. I scanned the titles, and Harry did the same.

"Oh Harry, look at all of this! These books- half of them are banned across the world- the others were destroyed centuries ago!" My voice rose with excitement. I couldn't believe the books I was seeing. They were all fairly dark where magic was concerned. I didn't care because I wasn't going to read them, but oh, to see books that were thought long gone, it made my heart soar.

"You aren't going to read them all, are you?"

"No," I said immediately. "The air is thick with Dark Magic, can't you tell?" Which was true. I've been around it so often to know what it felt like. It was a sort of crushing feeling, trapping you and syphoning your life and your will away. "Look for a book without a title or author, it's likely to be well-"

"Looking for my journal, are you, girl?"

Harry and I jumped at the raspy voice. I swiveled around and noticed a portrait hanging on the wall. A portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

He was seated on a finely crafted throne, his robes, a deep, forest green, draping over themselves and the chair. His beard rivaled Dumbledore's in length, but was a sort of steel gray, harsh and unrelenting, but glowed softly in the fire light. He shifted in his chair, his eyes, like onyx gemstones, glinted fiercely.

"You are not the first to come here for my secrets. Tell me, what makes you worthy?"

"I am your heir," I told him. "But I cannot prove it. The current headmaster had sealed my parseltongue abilities away when I was very young."

"Being my heir does not mean you are worthy of my secrets. The last one to come here, a boy your age, declared the very same thing- he, however, was at least a Parselmouth. How did you come here, then, if you cannot speak Parseltongue?"

"That would be my doing, sir," Harry spoke up. He stood beside me. "You see, the one you spoke of, Tom Riddle, accidentally gave me some of his powers when he tried to kill me as a child. As a consequence, I can speak Parseltongue."

Slytherin snorted. "I always knew the boy was a fool. Oh, he did so try to kill the mudbloods that came here with my basilisk, but he grew coward when the thought of Hogwarts being shut down. I'd rather see this place closed than have that filth learn magic."

I kept silent. I knew I couldn't argue with him on the subject, and besides, he was merely a portrait. The real Salazar Slytherin was long dead. But it did not mean he did not have some power over the Chamber.

"So what say you? What are you seeking?"

"My father came here once," I said. "I need to know what he learned so I can gain an advantage over him. We're at war, you see."

"So I have heard." Salazar said. "Your father read the books around you, but he did not acquire my journal. Is that all you came to seek?"

"I... would like to see it, yes."

Salazar gave a grim sort of smile. "Give me a drop of your blood."

I paused. "And what do you need it for?"

"Nothing as malicious as you believe, I assure you." Salazar soothed. "I am, after all, a portrait. By giving me your blood, I shall see if you are worthy of my secrets."

"It is the same as my fathers."

"Your father was a halfblood." And that was all he said on the matter. There appeared before us a small silver bowl on a table, and beside it, a ceremonial blade. Harry stared down at it with apprehension.

"I don't like this." he said. "Hermione- can we trust him? Do you need his journal that badly? Voldemort didn't have it. We don't need it."

"Harry I... what if there is something we can use to defeat him? We won't know if we don't look, first."

"But to give Slytherin your blood-"

"I am his blood, whether I like it or not." I took the blade in my hand and simply prodded my finger tip. Blood beaded up and rolled down my finger, falling into the bowl. It glowed this soft green color before it and the knife disappeared, and my wound was healed. Slytherin's portrait swung open, and in a small hole, was his journal. I reached in and grabbed it. It was a lot thinner than I had expected. When I stepped back, the portrait closed.

"There are many secrets in that book." Slytherin said. I waited for him to continue, but he said nothing. "Now off with you. Instead of climbing your way up to the girl's lav, you could use the entrance to the library." He gestured out of the hallway. "Across there, there is a staircase to the library. It will open up close to the Restricted Section."

"Thank you, Salazar." I said. "Come on, Harry. Let's go."

It was just as Slytherin said. We climbed the stair case and pressed on the wall, where it opened in an inconspicuous corner in the library. Harry threw the cloak over us and we quickly skulked out of the library and to Gryffindor tower.

When through the portrait hole, we both breathed a sigh of relief. Harry stared down at the book.

"I really hope that was worth it, Hermione." I gave him a nod and smiled.

"Thanks so much, Harry." I gave him a quick hug before climbing the stair case to the girl's dormitory, and settling down on my bed. I opened the journal, my wand lighted, and began to read.

* * *

"Naturally I can't go into further details about the book," Hermione explained. She set down her glass of firewhiskey and smiled at the woman across from her. It was their third session, discussing her past, and Hermione could tell that Rita was enjoying it. They'd gone through so many rolls of parchment it was ridiculous, and they weren't even halfway done.

"But the secrets of Salazar Slytherin- people will pay a fortune to read them, Miss Riddle-"

"Its Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione corrected. "And the secrets of Salazar Slytherin are far too dangerous for the world to read. I'm sorry Rita, but I stand by my decision."

Rita harrumphed. "Very well- shall we get on with it, then?"

* * *

I hadn't slept a wink from staying up all night to read, and I was far too excited now to sleep. I wanted to share my findings with someone. Anyone would do, except most people wouldn't understand. If I went to Draco, there was a high probability that Voldemort would be able search his mind. So for Draco's sake, I couldn't tell him.

Now that I thought on it, it would probably be best if I didn't tell anyone. My next lesson with Snape was to be Monday night, and maybe he would find out there- but he could be the only one. Not even Dumbledore could know. I didn't believe he would use Slytherin's journal to his advantage, as some might do, but he would try to stop me. Stop what I planned to do.

I wanted Voldemort to suffer, that much was obvious, for everything he had done. For ever believing he could simply get away with all the harm he had caused. Death was too good for him. He had to suffer as I had suffered. Everything that was important to him ripped away, as it had been taken from me. And it was only then that I would be satisfied.

In those thoughts it was clear that I had changed. I had always held a bit of a grudge, been vindictive in the past- Umbridge was evidence enough of that, and that moment where I had punched Draco in the face. But I had never wanted anyone to suffer. Not even Bellatrix, for taking away Sirius from Harry. But Voldemort? He would suffer. I would make sure of it. He would know that there are much worse things than death. Far, far worse.

I calmed down from my excitement, but I still couldn't sleep. I sighed and ran my hair through my fingers. I needed to do... something. Im not sure. My fingers were itching and my mind was racing, oh the possibilities! The secrets of Salazar Slytherin, at my finger tips. I returned to my dorm and stared down at the book. I tapped it a few times with my wand and made sure it was keyed to my wand and warded. Now no one would be able to read it, save for me. These secrets were dangerous, even in my hands. If Voldemort were ever to find them...

There would be no stopping him. It was with good reason that the secrets were never published; Voldemort would use them to his advantage and there was no doubt in my mind that we would lose the war. I was very glad that, for whatever reason, Salazar Slytherin had found him unworthy of the secrets. Seeing as I couldn't sleep, I took out a notebook and Slytherin's journal and began writing my notes. I would have some heavy planning to do.

* * *

It was around mid October that I noticed Harry staring at me. I couldn't fathom why- well, that wasn't true. There were many reasons why he could, would and probably should stare. My health, my unfortunate parentage, my choice of boyfriend- he probably believed he'd lost his friend. But all reasons he could possibly have had been handled already. So I knew it wasn't anything like that.

Finally, when I was nearly finished with my Transfiguration essay I snapped- probably a little more harshly than Harry deserved. The locket had been throwing insipid remarks throughout my thoughts and it was like I didn't have my own mind anymore. Needless to say it made my temper a little short. I winced at the hurt in Harry's eyes and apologized quickly.

"I understand, Hermione." His eyes flickered to where the locket lied hidden before he moved on. "I'm sorry, it's just... the lessons with Dumbledore..."

"Are you alright?" Harry sighed.

"You know that muggle quote? Know thy enemy?" Frowning, I nodded. But Harry didn't say anything more than that. I understood- he was getting to understand Voldemort. Better to teach Harry, after all, he was the one destined to defeat him. He told me, when others weren't around, what he learned. Voldemort had always been a bit psychotic, even when he was a child.

Harry turned to his blasted potions book. Instead of throwing a book at him in frustration, I went back to scribbling away at my essay, vaguely wondering how, exactly, Dumbledore was teaching him.

* * *

Sometimes I loathed how many classes I had undertaken. I didn't regret it for a single second, but they made my book bag burst at the seams and it hurt my shoulders to carry it around. A feather charm might have been useful, but it wouldn't stop the seams from splitting if I packed too many books. Unfortunately for me I only measured that in books, and not other inconsequential items.

As I walked away from Arithmancy to the library, fully prepared to enjoy my free period, I was yanked by the arm to a hidden alcove, my lips being furiously attacked. I would have protested against the assault had I not recognized who he was. His hands and lips were the most recognizable part when my eyes were closed. They weren't calloused or rough, or beheld any scar. They were perfect. Plus I still remembered his taste from the last time we snogged.

"Draco!" I gasped out when I pulled away for air. Said blond grinned before trailing kisses from my ear to the crook of my neck. I was very glad I had showered earlier. I would have been embarrassed if I had smelled badly during the assault. I giggled at the thought. Here I was being assaulted, bordering rape, from the way Draco was groping me, and I was worrying the way I smelled. I pushed him back, though I'd been enjoying the kisses.

I gave him a look, hands on my hips and my less than neat blouse. "What?" He asked innocently. "Can't a guy kiss his girlfriend?"

"Kiss, yes, grope in the hallways- no, I'm afraid not." Draco snorted. He waved his wand and set everything right before pecking my cheek and looping his arm with mine. He also took it upon himself to take my books.

"You weren't complaining five minutes ago," he smiled, smug. I rolled my eyes.

"We're supposed to set an example for the lower years," I told him. "Snogging people senselessly is hardly setting a good example."

"I'll keep that in mind," Draco replied, "the next time I snog 'people.'"

"Oh you know what I meant."

"Discover anything in the Chamber?" Draco asked me. He lead me to the lake where we could simply enjoy ourselves. I sighed. I didn't regret telling him, of course, but I didn't know what to tell him. I found something- a lot of things- but everything was so dangerous... I wasn't entirely sure what I could safely reveal, and what I couldn't.

I explained it to him as vaguely as possible. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly pleased to hear I'd given Salazar Slytherin, portrait or no, my blood.

"And you're sure it will help you with the Dark Lord?" Draco asked. I nodded emphatically. There was no way it couldn't. Not with what I read, with what I knew. I gripped his arm.

"It will be over, soon enough. I don't know when, and I don't know how it will end- but it will be over." Draco kissed my cheek and pulled be down into the grass. I leaned into him and sighed, content and happy. Draco wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my hair. He mumbled something and I laughed.

"I can't exactly hear you, you know."

"I said," he began, kissing my cheek again, "tell me why we were so stupid to not get together before, if we're this happy."

I snorted. "Draco we weren't exactly friends- and back then I was a Mudblood, remember?" He grunted and pulled me tighter. "Something makes me doubt we would have ended up together, had everything stayed the same."

"Maybe."

"No, not a maybe- Draco, your parents would have killed you, if not seriously maimed you, for the thought. Don't deny it," our fingers laced together and I gave his hand a slight squeeze. "And I doubt your aunt would have been any better. But there is no point in wondering in what ifs."

It was around the end of October that things began to get worse. Father seemed to be summoning Professor Snape quite a bit and he was always in a sour mood whenever our Occlumency lessons came around. Thankfully, though, I seemed to have improved immensely and that was enough to allow a break between lessons, though I was sure it was more for Professor Snape's benefit, rather than my own.

With the Occlumency I was finally able to block out the necklace. Whenever I could feel my irritation grow and it's works ebbing at the edge of my mind, I would breathe and relax before drifting off. I'd usually think of something else, something that me unbelievably happy and the locket couldn't taint. It helped with my nightmares in the night.

On the morning of Hallow's Eve, chatter was thick in the air as well as excitement. Forks clanked against their plates as the owl post swooped in, the Daily Prophet in their talons. My own copy fell into my lap and as I unraveled it, I stilled.

**The Dark Lord's Daughter: Current resident of Hogwarts?**

* * *

"And that is enough for today," Hermione pulled on her coat and her gloves as she stood. She tossed a bag of galleons- enough to pay Rita and for the drinks they'd ordered from Tom.

"You're... not really going to include that fiasco," Rita asked, "Are you?" Hermione raised a brow.

"Why? It's important, isn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"Rita," she cut her off. "I'm not discussing this with you. It turns the entire school against me, and it was by your doing, need I remind you." Hermione smiled. "Now, happy Christmas."

Hermione left the Leaky Cauldron without a second thought and into Muggle London. It was snowing, flakes of ice drifting loftily in the air. The children were bound to be playing in the snow when she got home. Hermione meandered her way to a safe apparition point before apparating to her home. It wasn't the Malfoy Manor, but it was large enough for her family.

Draco opened the door for her and greeted her with a thorough kiss. "How was your interview with Rita?"

"Same as always," Hermione breathed. "Are they in the garden?" She asked, referring to the children. Draco nodded, nuzzling into her neck. His wife let out a laugh and protested, but she didn't make much effort to pull away. "Draco, we need to see them."

"I've been babysitting all day, need I remind you, and he's absolutely intolerable." He nipped at her lower lip. "You owe me."

Hermione sighed. "Perhaps I do," she said. "But it will be paid in full after I see Scorpius and Cassi."

"Oh alright. He's with them."

"Don't tell me he's on one of his tangents," Hermione muttered. She removed herself from her husbands arms and made her way to the garden, Draco on her heels. She was always uneasy when her children were directly exposed to their grandfather, especially when no one else was with them. Hermione took the brunt of it most days, but on days like today, Draco was given the task.

"You know the children don't listen to them. Scorpius rather enjoys his outings in the Muggle world, and you know Cassi." Her lips quirked. Yes, Cassi was rather insistent that Muggles could be good- the Disney Princesses convinced her of that.

"Yes, well, I still don't feel comfortable with him doing that in front of him."

"Then its a rather good thing he isn't. He's reading them the Three Brothers." Hermione paused and frowned, gazing at them through the window panel. True enough, Tom Riddle was reading a book to his grandchildren. Hermione sighed. Scorpius and Cassiopeia had their eyes fixated on their grandfather with rapt attention.

"Do you ever wonder if he would have made a good father?" Draco asked, leaning into her. His lips brushed against her ears as they moved. Hermione shook her head.

"No. I know he wouldn't have- he's not the kind to change, Draco. And there is no feeling in his reading to them. He's not doing it because he wants too, or because he loves them. He's doing it because they are silent, and he has a connection to his world."

Draco nodded. "As you say, dear." He kissed her temple before retreating to the kitchen. Hermione paused at the doorway, and wondered if she should breach the barrier between them.

* * *

Please review if you can. It would mean the world to me.


	14. Chapter 14

Blood Ties

Chapter 14.

* * *

**The Dark Lord's Daughter: Resident at Hogwarts? **

**by Rita Skeeter.  
**

Readers and loyal fans, Fathers and Mothers, brothers and sisters, I ask you, is there any safer place than Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? With Professor Albus Dumbledore as the Headmaster and the highly skilled staff members, no one would dare harm a student- outside of the castle. But what if the enemy was within? What if the enemy was in fact of the student body! My readers will remember the school year of 1992-1993, when the Heir of Slytherin had supposedly returned to Hogwarts and opened up the Chamber of Secrets!

Naturally, as parents and siblings we were very concerned for our students at Hogwarts. Many parents withdrew their children and with good reason. As Lucius Malfoy reportedly said, when I visited him in Azkaban, "There had been an evil in the school- an evil, which, had endangered many a young student and could not be resolved by the Professors or Headmaster." This evil had not been examined by the Ministry, who preferred to let the dead thing rot in bowels of the castle, along with their embarrassment.

But this is not what I refer to, though it does bring some interesting ideas to mind. A current student of Hogwarts, who has chosen to remain anonymous, fears desperately for his or her life. In a plea for help, he or she had written to me in an effort to have this newly arrived danger removed from the school.

_Miss Rita Skeeter, _

_I come to you with the knowledge of how amiable you are, and how very understanding. You were a great help to the Champions of the Triwizard tournament in my fourth year, and I find myself in need of help.  
_

_I have been threatened, you see, with my very life. This person is overly confident in their abilities and lacks the proper skill to truly do harm- but I fear for my life, ma'am, for any fool can cause a great amount of pain. She is not as smart as she claims to be, and had failed to realize I am in possession of an owl, and I can and will contact others to ensure my safety.  
_

_She is a monster, an abomination. She claims to be of inferior birth in order to gain the trust of her fellow students. She has charmed them throughout the years, aided them, in order to gain their confidence. But I want to warn them, I want them to know the truth! The monster has endangered my life on several accounts, because she feels threatened by me. She is an accomplice of the famed Harry Potter, and his friend, Ronald Weasley. The monster I refer to is none other than Hermione Jean Granger.  
_

_Granger is not who she says she is. I've learned over this past summer that she is in fact the daughter of the Dark Lord, and it was then I realized her true colors.  
_

_Think, Miss Rita, just of all the strange occurrences over the years since her enrollment. In her first year, it is a well guarded secret (which everyone knows) that the Philosopher's Stone was to be guarded at Hogwarts, and that the Dark Lord was trying to use the stone to regain power. That same year, Hermione Granger enrolled and befriended Pureblood Ronald Weasley and the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. A troll was released on Halloween night that year, and Harry, newly made Seeker of the Gryffindor team, had difficulties with his broom.  
_

_It's a well known fact that Granger is able to perform whatever spell she sets her mind on. Daughter of the Dark Lord, is it so improbable to believe she would curse Harry Potter in a fit of revenge? Is it so unlikely to believe that she would lure The Boy Who Lived into the depths of Hogwarts in order to kill him, and to gain her father's favor?  
_

_With luck, Harry Potter managed to escape his fate, but his happiness was short lived.  
_

_In their second year of Hogwarts, Potter and Weasley were forced to use their father's flying car (something apparently used for transportation by Muggles instead of brooms or apparition) to fly to Hogwarts. I believe it was Granger's doing. She was found to be at Hogwarts, on time, like the others. It is possible that she was attempting to rid of Potter in order to make preparation for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.  
_

_Walls painted with blood; students, animals, and ghosts alike left petrified in the halls. Potter was even attacked by a bludger in one of his Quidditch games. It is clear to me that Granger wanted to send a message, enemies of the heir, muggleborns and muggles, blood traitors alike, including Potter and Weasley, needed to watch out. She was waiting for them, waiting to attack. _

_Ginny Weasley was her first true victim, dragged into the Chamber. Unfortunately Granger could not control the beast within the walls of Hogwarts and was petrified herself. It was only by the doing of Potter and Weasley that the remained open for the students. Thank Merlin that Granger could not manage to petrify, or worse, kill, one of them!  
_

_But Granger did not give up hope. When news broke out about Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, Granger began scheming. With the help of Werewolf Remus Lupin, a friend of Sirius Black, Granger aided Black into infiltrating the school. He attacked the boy's dormitory in search of Potter, and when that did not succeed, Lupin himself transformed into a werewolf to kill the third year boy. But luck was once again on Potter's side, and he escaped unharmed. Black and Lupin had managed to escape, however, no doubt due to Granger, in the hopes that Black could revive He Who Must Not Be Named.  
_

_The year of the Triwizard tournament was no doubt the worst. Instead of killing Harry, Granger tried to seduce him with her feminine wiles, while stringing Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum along as well. Her attraction to Krum had no doubt to do with his attendance to Durmstrang, a school well known for it's affinity with the Dark Arts. Oh there is no doubt that Granger aided Potter along the way, no one is denying her intelligence, but she only did so to ensure Potter's survival. It is well known that the Cup was a portkey, but to where, no one known. What is known is that after Potter's trip, Cedric Diggory was dead and Voldemort had returned to life.  
_

_She achieved her goal. Voldemort was alive. To makes matters worse, Granger enjoyed tormenting the Ministry official, Dolores Umbridge during her duration at Hogwarts and ridiculed Harry Potter behind his back. She broke his heart with one swift stroke, and continued to stomp on it.  
_

_So you see? We cannot trust her. The public must be made aware. Hermione Granger is a dangerous individual, and there isn't a soul alive in Hogwarts safe from her.  
_

My dear readers, you have no idea, absolutely no idea, at how shocked I was to read all of this! Of course, I can hardly be surprised! Hermione Granger, if that is her real name, had threatened me on many accounts. Hermione Granger, daughter of the Dark Lord. Secret Succubus, pining for the attentions of poor Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley! Our children are not safe! No one is safe!

Who knows what the girl is truly capable of? Is she hiding anything else? Could anyone, or anything, stand in her way? We must act, my readers, and stand up to Dumbledore and the monster he is hosting within his walls. We cannot fail if we stand up and fight this together!

* * *

The Great Hall was silent. Everyone was staring at me. A thousand eyes, and they were all attuned to me. I couldn't breathe, I could barely think- rage boiled my blood. I knew who did this. Pansy Parkinson would be the only logical choice, could be the only choice. No one else held such a grudge, except for Rita, and no one would try to have me killed as well as ruin my reputation. She hated me. Draco seemed to have the same idea, he was glaring at Pansy so hatefully it made my skin crawl.

No one spoke for a long time. Until Ron did.

"Well this is absolute rubbish," he said aloud. "Everyone knows that Ginny'd been possessed by Voldemort, not Hermione. Hell, she was the one who had told me and Harry it'd been a bloody basilisk in the first place! And if it weren't for Hermione, me and Harry'd be dead. Four times over. I reckon we owe her our lives, don't we, Harry?" Shock coursed through me. Of all the people to defend me, I hadn't expected it to be him.

"Yeah," Harry announced loudly. "We do."

"But what about the bit about Black?" a Hufflepuff shouted.

"Well it was announced _my godfather_ was innocent in the _Prophet_, wasn't it?"

There were murmurings until a Gryffindor stood up. A seventh year whom I wasn't completely familiar with.

"The Prophet can lie! But Rita Skeeter never has, has she? You were awfully close to Potter and Krum in your fourth year, weren't you? She's the one who told the truth. My family was killed by You Know Who!" He growled out. "My Gran and my Mum! And you'd been trying to bring him back all this time? It's your fault my family is dead! Your fault Cedric Diggory had to die!"

That was all it took. The mention of Cedric was still a sore spot for the Hufflepuffs, and they flared up in unison to attack me, wands drawn. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors joined them. Spells were flying in the air as my friends, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Ron, stood around me to protect me. Draco shot at my attackers from behind. The other Slytherins joined him, knowing it was within their best interest to do so. Seconds passed like minutes and students were knocked out in mass numbers, until finally all of our wands shot up in the air.

"That is _enough,_" Dumbledore stressed, his voice rang above us. "It is true that Hermione is the daughter of Lord Voldemort. However, she had not been aware of this until recently, and even so, refuses to join his side but remains loyal to her friends. One would think that one newspaper article would not overturn years of proven loyalty. Gryffindors, need I remind you that without the help of Miss Riddle, it is unlikely that they would have won the House Cup since her enrollment."

The students looked down with guilt. Gryffindors especially. "Wands will be inspected to see who fired what, and if it was merely in defense or of attack. As a result of this behavior experienced by each house, I am afraid I must dock five points from each and everyone who had joined in the fray. Just as well, Hogsmeade weekends have now been cancelled." Groaning and moans could be heard, but were silenced by Dumbledore's penetrating stare. His gaze swept over the room.

"I am severely disappointed," He said sadly. "I had thought that our students here were better than that. It appears I was wrong. Finish eating," he said. "Then it is off to your respective dormitories. Classes are cancelled for the day. If anyone dares to attack another student again, know that they risk expulsion." Wands were returned as students were awakened and sent off to the Hospital Wing to be attended by Pomfrey. Everyone finished rather quietly. It was so odd. The Great Hall had never been so quiet, ever. It appeared that they had learned their lesson, though some did glare at me while they ate. I finished first and waited quietly in the hall. Draco, Ron, and Harry soon joined me.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Draco asked. He kissed me briefly before wrapping me in his arms. I nodded shakily.

"I didn't think everyone would have turned on me so quickly. I should have expected- I mean, it's happened before, but..." My fingers entwined with his. He gave my hand a light squeeze.

"They're all gits," Ron said. "Me, especially. I.. shouldn't have been so upset. It's not your fault, not really. I can't say I'd do the same, but I don't... blame you." I placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled lightly.

"You're forgiven, Ron. I need all the friends I can get, these days."

He grinned, then glanced over at Draco. "I'm not about to start liking the ferret, though."

"Believe me, Weasel, the feeling is mutual." He sneered. I sighed and Harry let out a laugh.

Despite just being revealed to the world, I was incredibly happy.

* * *

The after effects happened in much of the same way it did after you wrote those atrocious things about me back in my fourth year. I received Howlers, letters filled to the brim with curses, jinxes, and bubotuber pus, and sometimes all of it in one clean package. There was a few more creative ones that followed me with curses everywhere I went. It finally got to the point where letters sent to me were disposed of directly, and no one could send a proper owl ever again. Not that I minded, there weren't a lot of people in the outside world I wished to speak with.

The Weasely Clan had done their best to cheer me up. Mrs. Weasley sent me some homemade cookies to cheer me up, which I shared with Ron, Harry, and Ginny in the common room. Fred and George sent me boxes of items to use on anyone who tried to attack me. As a prefect I couldn't abide by it, but I turned a blind eye when Harry, Ron and Ginny dived for the products.

As for inside the school, Draco began acting like a personal guard. He went with me everywhere, and when he couldn't, Harry and Ron would. I shared most of my classes with them, so it wasn't too much of a hassle. It was only when they drew wands because someone gave me a hard look that it became unbearable. What was surprising was when Pansy was no longer at school. It surprised me and I asked Draco about it. He informed me that Pansy was no longer a student at Hogwarts.

"Her parents will be absolutely furious, but there is nothing they can do about it." He passed me my potions book when I started the essay on the Draught of Peace for Slughorn. I thanked him, silently willing him to continue. He did. "Hogwarts was her haven from the Dark Lord, but she blew it because she was jealous. I can't say I'm happy, she is like a sister."

"How did Dumbledore even find out, anyway?"

Draco was decidedly silent. I figured what that meant, but decided not to push the issue. I found it... sweet that he would have someone expelled for me. Even if it was a wicked way to think.

"You know, I told Rita that if she wrote something for the Quibbler, she could write again. This is her payback."

"The article?" I nodded, then smiled. "Well, fair's fair, right? I suppose if she wants to expose me, it's only fair I expose her."

"What are you getting at, Granger?" I grinned at him. "Oh nothing. Just letting a few more skeletons out of the closet." A breeze tickled past and I was glad we decided to take to studying outside. It might've been a bit chilly, but warming charms were a simple enough solution. The breeze was so nice and it made everything incredibly cleansing.

"Can I see your Charms essay?" Draco asked. I rolled my eyes.

"No, because you're being lazy. You're just as good at Charms as I am," I declared. "You just don't want to do it."

Draco smirked. "I'm not being lazy, I'm being smart. When you've got the smartest witch in the school as your girlfriend, whats the point of homework?"

I scowled. "To learn, you infuriating-" Draco silenced me with a kiss. It was pretty effective, actually, and the essays were forgotten. I couldn't imagine never being able to snog him again. The thought gripped me like a sudden chill. I did not, could not, lose Draco. He was far too involved with Death Eaters, and I would have to come up with a way to make sure he was protected. I pulled back before kissing him gentler that time, trying to convey what I couldn't put to words.

* * *

**I'm not keen on losing Blood Ties due to the purge of fanfiction with anything above MA, so from here on out I'm going to be focusing on editing. I know, I'm sorry, you waited half a year for chapters 12-14, and I apologize. But I'd rather not wait and make you wait a half a year more.**


	15. Chapter 15

November seemed to pass in a blur. Homework was being slammed down on all of us as the Christmas break approached, but so did the Yule Ball. Dumbledore announced it on December first, and everyone was excited. Of course, since no one could go to Hogsmeade anymore, everyone had to order their robes and dresses through post.

The student body as a whole did not like me anymore than before. Death Eater raids were becoming more of a constant because of my father's rage. Late in the night Professor Snape would summon me and I would have to join them. I would never get over the deaths that I have caused. It was as if everyone knew, too. I could see it in their faces. Their anger. Their judgment. They would hex me on the spot if they could, but seeing as Harry, Ron, and Draco constantly surrounded me, they were dissuaded. Their whispers did not affect me as they would a long time ago- there were more important things to deal with. Like my guilt.

Snow decorated the ground in a thick blanket. One evening, Harry, Ron, and I, just the three of us since Draco had Quidditch practice, we sat on the grounds amongst the snow like we used to. I leaned against the tree by the lake with Slytherin's book in my hands. Late last night I had to go to another raid. I killed five muggle parents after torturing their children in front of their eyes. Their screams still echoed in my ears. I wanted to cry. But I couldn't, not in front of Harry and Ron.

"So, Hermione…" Harry began. He shared a look with Ron. "We were talking. And when this year is over, we might not come back to Hogwarts."

I looked at them sharply. "Are you insane? This is the safest place for you. If my father finds out you two are on your own-"

"Come off it Hermione," Ron said. "We can't stay here. What if he figures out how to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts? We'd be placing everyone in danger."

"You're not so stupid to believe that Voldemort only wants you two, are you?" I asked, glancing between them. "Yes, he wants you both more than anyone. But the students will always be in danger, whether or not you two are here."

"You'll come with us won't you?" Ron asked.

I frowned sadly. "Ron, I don't know if I can. My father will do what he wants- and if he wants me in Hogwarts next year, then I suppose I will be. But I might not be." Ron nodded in understanding. I reached over and grasped his hand before giving it a gentle squeeze and withdrawing. "I'll see what I can do. I do have an idea that may let me..."

"Blimey," Ron said. "It feels like were on different sides. I know you're not, but it feels like…"

"I understand," I intervened. "Even if I don't join you, I sincerely hope you have a plan."

"I was thinking about that, actually." Harry said. "Dumbledore wants us looking for things called Horcruxes. We don't know anything about them though."

"And you want me to find out?" Harry nodded.

"Dumbledore wants me to get a memory from Slughorn, but I don't know how I'm supposed to. It's vital for our lessons."

"You'd be best getting to know him better." I said thoughtfully. "Study his schedule. He values people with talent, that way he can get favors from them in the future. He is a Slytherin, after all. I'd help, but seeing as I'm Voldemort's daughter, he might not… but then again… he may… he has avoided me mostly, though in lessons, since my father was revealed… Perhaps he was close to him? I could ask my father about him, if you want. He does tell me things. Small, stupid little things that he doesn't believe will hinder his goals, or help you. It could help."

Harry and Ron shared a glance. "You mean, get Voldemort to tell you what we want?"

I nodded. "It'd be tricky, he'd likely try to read my mind but I have been practicing my Occlumency. Snape says I'm good enough to hide things from him if necessary. But I could do it. Don't give up on Slughorn though. I'll talk to my father over Christmas break."

"Thanks a lot Hermione," Harry said, beaming. "You're the best."

I smiled sadly. "I try."

"So, Christmas break…" Ron began. "Voldemort won't let you come to the Burrow, will he?"

"Unfortunately no. He wants to spend time with me, to train me. I'm his heir after all." I wouldn't go anyway. I had a feeling that Voldemort would be able to find me, because of the locket he gave me. And that would put them in danger. I did not want that.

"Will he make you fight against us?" Harry asked. I could tell the thought was weighing heavily on his mind. It had been weighing on me too. I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to make me fight against my friends. But I wasn't that far gone, and I never would be. "When the time comes, the final battle- will he?"

"He can try," I said confidently. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry. Remember the journal I retrieved?" Harry and Ron both nodded in understanding. Harry had filled him in on Salazar's journal some time ago after Halloween. He hadn't liked the idea any more than Harry, but they both agreed that any information to help against Voldemort was useful information.

"It will help. And when the time comes, Harry, Ron, I may need you both to help me with something. I can't tell you yet- but I will in the future, I promise."

"Won't it be Dark Magic?" Ron asked. "Slytherin was a Dark Wizard."

I sighed. "You trust me, don't you?"

Ron shifted nervously. "Only, it's just that… Dark Magic… we've never had to use it before. It just seems wrong."

"Magic is only Dark if you use it that way." I explained patiently. "If you used, say, Petrificus Totalus, and proceeded to torture someone while they couldn't move- or even scream, wouldn't it be considered Dark? Even the tickling charm can be used for torture if used correctly. Magic is based on intention, not its history."

"Yeah but-"

"There are some exceptions. The Avada, the Imperio, and Cruciatus are Unforgivables for a reason." I interrupted. "But I promise that this will only help us, not hinder us. And you won't have to do anything malicious."

"Alright, Hermione," Harry said. "I trust you." I smiled before steering the conversation to lighter subjects, such as the Yule Ball.

"I can't believe Dumbledore is throwing another one," Ron said, exasperated. "Honestly, who needs a dance?"

"People who want to be happy," I supplied. "In dark times like these? Sometimes people need a way to forget. A ball is as good as reason as any, not to mention it is Christmas."

"Yes but I heard that Slughorn was supposed to host a Christmas party," Harry said. "I could have used that to get the memory I need."

"It's a lot better, I say." Ron said, grumpily. He was a bit angry that Harry was receiving special treatment from Slughorn since he found that book. I'd forgotten about it mostly, considering I was busy plotting Voldemort's "demise." I still didn't like that Harry had it.

"You can use it to your advantage," I reminded him. "Get him to like you again. Apologize and make it clear you don't need the memory anymore." I fell into the snow and laughed, ignoring the biting chill of the cold. I reached my hand up and smiled. "It's snowing," I said gleefully.

"It's been snowing all week," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, but- oh, nevermind. You two are so difficult," I teased, before gathering a snowball and hitting Ron in the chest. A snowball war ensued until Draco got back from practice, when we all went inside the castle, as friends.

:S:

It was rare indeed when I found myself without my self-proclaimed body guards and boyfriend at my heels, but one December afternoon I did found myself pleasantly alone. It wasn't as if I didn't enjoy spending so much time with my friends, but some days I did need a break from their pestering.

The smell of musty books filled the air and I smiled in comfort. The Library was a safe haven from everyone, not just my boys. No one really came in here to threaten me (much) and even if they had no one would dare, simply because Madam Pince alone would hand them their rears on a silver platter. Besides, they knew it would be a bad idea to attack me alone.

I decided to spend my free time researching the Mondego family. I hadn't much chance before. Even if my mother had attended Beauxbatons, it wasn't unreasonable to believe some sort of record of the family lingered somewhere in Hogwarts. The Library was, after all, very extensive.

It would be an hour later before I found anything of substance. I came across the Mondego name in a newspaper clipping, and coincidentally, it was on my mother. My father had mentioned that my mother had been the Ambassador of the French Ministry, and from the newspaper clipping I could see that my mother had indeed been very beautiful. She looked a lot like me, but there was something about her that just made her so completely different.

Staring at her, I saw that it was her confidence. The way she held herself. She smiled gently but she had the strength and power to back her up. It was admirable.

"There has to be more than that," I muttered. I left the clipping on the table and moved to the aisles, looking for a few specific books. I had read them thoroughly once before for a bit of light reading.

"The Purebloods," I read aloud as I found it. I pulled the thick tome from its shelf and carried it back to my table. Supposedly, the book was a rare one- it was self-updating. There was some heavy magic on it, and only a few people were supposed to be privy to this sort of information. I wondered how Hogwarts had come across a copy, and then it struck me that the very same book in my hands must have been read by my father. I didn't doubt his arrogance; he would believe that he could only belong to a pureblood family- even if he had no indication of who they were.

Well, I mused to myself, I was on a similar mission. I wanted to know more about my family from my mother's side.

Families weren't listed in alphabetical order- but who was related directly to whom. I supposed the best was to start at the beginning, so I went to the first known purebloods. Amongst them were Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but also Merlin, Morgana, and Vivienne. Of course there were a few more, but they weren't as well known as the others.

The problem was that all of the families had originated in Britain, or Albion as it used to be called. I wondered if it was only meant for the Purebloods that were in Britain, and not in France. I found it difficult to believe all Purebloods, that magic, originated in Britain.

Did the library have a French addition? If they had I hadn't seen it. It could be possible that the Mondego family had originated from Britain themselves and had moved to France for one reason or another.

I sighed and resigned myself for a very long day as I set to work. I began with Merlin, instead of the Founders because I didn't believe that their family, related directly or not, would leave Britain without a very good reason. So I went to Merlin, Morgana, and Vivienne. However unlikely it was that they were related, there was no harm in trying. My homework was finished and my boys distracted, so I had the day to myself. If the worst should happen, I could simply come back later. As much as it disappointed me, I knew no one else would be interested in the book and would check it out.

As I traced Morgana's family, I found that her tree was rather short, and her line had died out sometime in the 18th century. Women were common in her family, and all had been magical, but not a lot of them had married or had children, preferring their independence. The last child to the Morgana family had died shortly after her birth, and her mother, apparently, soon followed.

It was rather sad; I would have liked to know their stories more, have liked to know why they died so early and what had happened to them- but the book provided only dates and years to match the faces , Houses, and names. There were no summaries, no biographies to look into. If I really wanted to know, I would have to look into the matter myself.

But I had another goal in mind, and so I moved on to Vivienne's family. I was apprehensive to look at Merlin's for some reason. I didn't know why, but every time I had the mind to look at his instead, I would find myself flipping to another page. Vivienne's branch was much longer, and most of her family had been in Slytherin. Morgana's family had been in Ravenclaw. I found a great many of their families marrying into each other and producing offspring of their own, until they eventually died with their last son, who did not marry at all.

A great many hours passed and eventually, I was able to look at the Merlin family tree. His list of family members were long and numerous, unlike Vivienne's and Morgana's. It appeared as if their family had married into each other as well as minor families, such as the Black's and Malfoy's. But then I found an anomaly.

Merlin, apparently, had twins with Vivienne named Arthur and Lucille. Not _the _Arthur, of course, but he had changed his family name. He had, with his twin sister, a child, and then that child married her brother and bore a child, and that child married a cousin- until eventually it lead down to one Antoinette Maria Mondego, who married Tom Marvolo Riddle, and bore a child- Hermione Jean Riddle.

I sat back in my chair. My eyes were worn and my fingers were sore from looking through the book all day, but I couldn't deny what I saw. My face was shining up at me, the woman that I was now, only happier, with my name and birth date underneath my portrait. I was a child of the Mondego family. It bothered me that there was a long line of incest in the family, but it made one thing irrevocably clear.

I was the direct, purest heir to Merlin that there was. The others had died, or their blood had mixed within Muggle families far too much for there to be any real link, but not with me. I wondered if I should be disgusted or proud of the situation, but it hadn't been uncommon practice for brothers to marry sisters and bear children within pureblood families. Thankfully that practice had long died out and they resorted to marrying between cousins.

I was the heir of Merlin. Not just Merlin- but Salazar Slytherin. It was- astounding- and I realized then that it was no wonder that Dumbledore had sealed my magic- even if it was a tenth of what Merlin's magic could have been, combined with Salazar Slytherin I could have, if I wanted, become a truly powerful witch. I was born with such magic in my veins.

The epiphany passed but I was still dazed. I could hardly believe it. It seemed so unreal- but the day was late and I had promised Draco to meet him before curfew. I ignored the fact I missed lunch and dinner, and decided that I would reveal my findings to Draco while we ate in the kitchens. I walked toward the exit but paused.

Merlin's heir… I could scarcely believe it. No wonder Voldemort wanted me on his side so badly, and was pushing me to my greatest limits. He was trying to unlock my powers. I would be one of the most powerful witches in the world with Merlin's magic alone, but added to Slytherin's?

But then, that lead me to the question- why did he want me alive? I was a threat to him, I wasn't even on his side. He ensured that when he sent me away to the Muggles. Maybe he thought I was on his side, because of the locket and its taint. So why was it that he hadn't tried to kill me yet?

I bit my lip in apprehension. Perhaps, I thought, Slytherin's library held the answers. I needed those answers. I turned, ready to go back inside, but then the thought of Draco came up again.

"Expecto Patronum," I whispered, thinking of Draco. My patronus silkily lazed out of my wand, coiling around my arm. It was cool to the touch, and smooth, not scaly. Should I be surprised that my wand had taken the shape of a snake? I smiled.

"Relay this to Draco Malfoy for me," I said, "And make sure no one sees you when you find him. 'Meet me in the Library, it's important.'" The snake bobbed its head before it shot out, much faster than before as it slithered away. It looked like it was ready to strike.

Draco came strolling in twenty minutes later with a picnic basket full of food. My eyes widened, I was starving. I beamed at his thoughtfulness. That was why I was with him. Even if other people didn't see it, I knew how considerate Draco Malfoy could be, and I loved him for it. He leaned in a kiss I was only too ready to give him. And he was smug, I could tell, by the pull of his lips. He recognized the Patronus for what it was.

"Now, what is it you've found out?" Draco asked after we pulled apart for air. I took him by his hand and led him through the Library to the Restricted Section.

"I'm the purest heir of Merlin there is." I informed him. Draco stared down at me, his eyes wide, and then he nodded in acceptance.

"No wonder you're so bloody brilliant. You have Merlin and Slytherin blood. Its to be expected." I rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but don't you see the problem with that?" I asked him.

The Library entrance within the Restricted section opened at my touch. I knew as soon as I stepped inside that I would be there well past curfew, probably until early morning. Voldemort might have erased any evidence of what he planned, if it was in Slytherin's library at all, but I had to try.

He was silent as we descended the stairs, the creak of the bookshelf closing and encasing us in darkness. All at once, torches mounted on the wall lit with a blazing fire, flickering their warmth around us. I felt comforted. Finally he said,

"Voldemort should want to kill you."

"Exactly. One of the most powerful beings to come into existence, and he doesn't at all feel threatened by it? Instead, he's trying to make me even stronger, going as far to train me?" I shook my head. "No. He's planning something, and I'm going to find out what."

"And this creepy stair way…?"

"Leads into the Chamber of Secrets, Slytherin's personal library. We may be here awhile, if that's alright."

"Of course its alright," Draco said, as if I were an idiot. "Dark Lord trying to kill my girlfriend? Not bloody likely." I grinned. We came upon a wall and I pushed it open. Stone scraping against stone filled my ears, and a low beam of light filled the stairway as it opened.

I grasped Draco's hand and pulled him into Salazar Slytherin's library. He was amazed as I was. I dropped his hand and smiled, leaving him to it. I approached the portrait on the wall above the fireplace.

"Sir," I began as he stirred. "I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"And what would that be?" He stared down at me until he caught site of Draco. "Ah, a Malfoy. A pureblood. I hope you're not as much a fool as your grandfather, boy."

Draco bowed his head. "Sir, I couldn't say. I don't know how much of an idiot my grandfather was."

Slytherin snorted. "A damned stupid one, following Riddle like a lap dog. I assume your family is still following him?"

"Yes sir," Draco replied, clutching the basket tightly. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. No matter how true it was, Draco still didn't like his family being insulted. "But I do not."

"Good! You're clearly in love with my heir here. You might be the first Malfoy I've ever seen to actually have a brain." His gaze drifted to me, as if he had never spoken to Draco at all.

"Sir, my father is a very powerful wizard, and also a very ambitious one. Any threat to him is quickly dealt with and destroyed. I'm sure you know now that I am Merlin's heir as well, and a combination of your blood and Merlin's, of your magicks combined-"

"Yes yes, you're likely to be very powerful when your power is unlocked. Get on with it," Slytherin snapped. I nodded in submission.

"Surely he would want to kill me? I am a threat to him and I have defied him more than once already. Do you know…."

"If there is any particular reason?" Slytherin finished. "I doubt it has to do with any _paternal _affection. Voldemort was sired under the effects of the Love Potion and was born with no ability for compassion, affection or love. Anything he feels for you, child, is empty and false. This should be of no great issue to you, especially if you hate him as much as you say you do.

"But there is something he could be planning. Something that wasn't hidden in my journal. I wasn't the only one interested in immortality, you see. Rowena was as well. She was afraid of Death, and as her time grew closer she studied a way to defeat him voraciously." His lips curled into a sickening smirk, and I was afraid of what I would hear next.

"She did not find a way to defeat Death, but to extend her life. And not in a manner so crude as a Horcrux, but that was preferable, even better, than what she had found." Slytherin shifted in seat, leaning forward. His coal black eyes sparkled with amusement and cruelty.

"You see, dear child, the reason your father is so intent on unlocking your powers, on training you and making you better than he will ever hope to be, is so that he can take it as his own and live within it. The process is damaging for both the host and the parasite. However, the host, when weak willed and submissive to the parasite, usually dies. And the parasite will live in its place."

:S:

Rita Skeeter stared at Hermione in astonishment. Hermione smiled thinly, as if she were in great pain. Rita was staring at her as if she was the most horrific thing she had ever seen in her life. Hermione lifted her glass of firewhiskey to her lips. "Go ahead and ask, Rita. I don't bite."

The words tumbled out of her mouth like a waterfall, her voice thick with fear. "You- I mean you can't possibly be telling the truth- he didn't… he couldn't have- he didn't really, did he?"

"What, take my body? Use me as a host?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing red as her magic crackled in anger. It was thick with heat and pure, raw energy. Glasses shattered around her. The Leakey Cauldron fell silent, and Hermione calmed herself. They stared at her back for a few moments, but in the end, returned to their usual, quiet chatter.

Rita cowered back in fear and Hermione sighed, downing the rest of her drink in one go. "If I was Voldemort right now, Rita, do you honestly believe I would be telling you any of this? Don't be so thick."

Rita's got the most peculiar feeling that she was talking to perhaps the most powerful witch in all of history, and the idea frightened her incredibly. But not enough to leave. She did always do too much for her readers. One day it just might get her killed.

:S:

"There is a way for him to take over her body?" Draco asked the portrait in surprise. Slytherin was about to reply when I interrupted him.

"No." I said fiercely. "I will not let him. I am my own person, and I will not allow my father the pleasure of taking my freedom from me." It made sense, and was in fact perfectly reasonable. I had always doubted that Voldemort would put all of his faith into mere objects to protect his soul. He would have a backup plan. And I was it.

My father never loved Antoinetta Marie. He may have been fond of her, but only because of her usefulness. Nothing more. He didn't care about her any more than he did my grandfather. He was a cruel, heartless man, and that was the truth of it.

He sired me for one reason only. And that was so he could live forever. I was sure he wanted a boy to be his host, but he didn't have a choice. It wasn't like he would go to anyone of lesser standing to try again after my mother had died in childbirth. I would have to do.

I stared at the bookcase in front of me. He never, not once, cared for me. I was his possession, a means to an end. The truth was supposed to hurt, but it didn't, not really. I knew already of his cruelty, and the lengths he would go to get what he desired. I never held any sort of affection for him anyway.

It just made sense now. Why he married my mother, why he gave me up when my mother died. He couldn't very well take care of me himself and he didn't trust his Death Eaters to do it. Any one of them could be found out and shipped off to Azkaban. He did it to keep his next body safe. He truly was a snake. He would shed his body and enter mine like a second skin. It would be an uncomfortable fit, that was why he was trying to make me ready.

It was also why he wouldn't kill me. Because if he did, then he would truly die.

"Declarations are all very well and good," Slytherin pointed out. "But there is still the manner of dealing with him."

I shook my head. "I know a few spells that will help me considerably, sir."

Slytherin gestured toward one of the bookshelves, and I followed his gaze. "Everything you will need to know about that particular ritual is right there. I kept Rowenas work should I have ever needed it. I never did get around to that particular spell. Hm, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation if I did." He snorted with laughter, but I didn't find him very funny.

Draco set up our picnic in Slytherin's library, and we ate as we read over Rowena's work. Sometimes we would get sidetracked over a spell of hers here and there, but we both were determined to figure out how, exactly, the spell worked and how he planned on taking over my body. If I knew all about it, then I could best avoid it. I ran my fingers through my hair and ignored the pounding headache at the base of my skull. It matched the thrum of the locket hanging around my neck, and I was reminded of Horcruxes.

Slytherin knew what a Horcrux was, of course he did. I looked up at the portrait, and the man who appeared to be asleep. Of course he wasn't, he was just bored. "Sir, you mentioned Horcruxes earlier."

"I did," he said, rousing himself. "What of it?"

"What exactly are they? Dumbledore believes that Voldemort has made several of them."

Salazar Slytherin appeared thoughtful at the new information, scratching at his beard. His eyes narrowed and the wizard leaned forward in his throne as he explained. "A Horcrux is an item that holds a portion of a soul within it. It can only be made with a certain spell, and a sacrifice. To tear at the soul is a terrible thing, and can only be done one way. Murder." My eyes widened.

"I've read about it before… Is there a way to destroy a Horcrux?"

"Of course there is," Slytherin sneered. "Nothing is invulnerable. Along with any enchantment the owner wishes to protect it with, a Horcrux can only be destroyed with powerful magic. I believe that diary was a Horcrux, and that friend of yours destroyed it with my basilisk's fang. There are other ways- such as fiendfyre, but that is sorely difficult to control, as well as the Killing Curse."

"I see…" I made a mental note to inform Harry of this later, he and Dumbledore needed to know. I nodded my head in thanks. Now they would just need to figure out how many Horcruxes my father had created. I turned to Draco and smiled sadly. I hope he didn't mind that our picnic outside was ruined. A picnic in the snow seemed marvelous right about now, but here in the comfort of a fire and books was just fine. I wished we could go on normal dates, do normal things any witch or wizard could do. But we couldn't, and that was fine. For now. There would be plenty of time to make up for it later.

:S:

The following Monday, I sat beside Draco at the Slytherin table eating breakfast before lessons. The owls arrived and a copy of the Daily Prophet landed on our plates, and the entire Great Hall fell into a deadly silence. The entire Parkinson family was dead.


End file.
